


Incomparable

by kamin



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alcohol/Drinking, Fluff, Friendship, Future Fic, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, lil bit of angst, tags will update as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:07:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 79,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4238289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamin/pseuds/kamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise is a celebrity, Aomine is a basketball superstar. It's been more than half a decade, but somehow they meet again; and they haven't really changed but nothing's the same. Also, fangirls may or may not be the best wingmen ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's a Bet

**Author's Note:**

> I'll just get this part out of the way but there will be references/cameos from Characters Not From KnB, and if you notice then that's great! But I will not be developing them beyond their scenes and roles, and am not trying to throw at your face that loOK THIS CHARACTER'S FROM ANOTHER ANIME! I just more or less wanted to save time on coming up with new characters by using existing ones that I believed could fit in with this future fic (god forbid there aren't any new people around the KnB guys after half a decade). I even changed some names by one letter or syllable a la anime-avoiding-copyright-issues-and/or-parodying style, just for the heck of it. Otherwise it's like the Special Features in a DVD: it's there, but you don't have to know about it to enjoy the movie, but if you do, then that's just a few plus points for you ;)
> 
> Will try to update this periodically (probably on weekends). (emphasis on /try/)

Through the years, Kise had nearly perfected the art of falling asleep in any situation: all he had to do is take a deep breath or two, close his eyes, and fall into a state of half-slumber. Sometimes he’d manage a five, maybe ten minute nap while being prepared by stylists. Other times, he relished the breaks he was allowed when travelling from one appointment to another, and he felt unbidden relief when the distance afforded him more than twenty minutes of breath in the backseat of his car. If he was particularly lucky, there’d be traffic.

Even amidst the buzz of backstage activity hustling around him, Kise was contemplating sleep as his older sister combed through his hair with her fingers, just the way he liked it best. The soft strands of his hair parted easily under her palm, soothing his head with a warmth he rarely experienced. Kise might as well purr at how comforted he was, nerves relaxed and pulse muffled—his heart never missed the opportunity to drum in his chest at every live show, reminding him just how many people would have their eyes trained to the TV watching him where he can’t see them. Kise had somewhat gotten used to it, and would pride himself in being able to don his many new faces; expressions and emotions completely under his control. He knew exactly how wide to stretch his smile, how high to raise his eyebrows, tilt his head, scrunch his eyes—every shift was measured and mixed in the right ways for the right times, and even Kise with all his fast learning had taken longer to grasp it all. But he was as far as where he was anyway, and faster than most, just like any other endeavor he set out to do.

“You’re being extra nice today, Rika-nee,” Kise mumbled, leaning into his sister’s palms. “Why are you being extra nice.”

Rika chuckled, brushing Kise’s hair back with her fingers. His hair was so soft and neat that he rarely needed hairspray, and when they were younger she would spend more time tenderly combing through his hair than braiding it, smiling at how he’d curl up to her like a puppy and nod off. “You’ve worked hard,” she replied, tucking stray clumps of hair behind Kise’s ear. “And you’re the featured star today. It’s a special occasion.”

She pulled her hands back, looking at Kise’s reflection. Just a bit of makeup and a simple blow-dried hairstyle looked best on Kise, and she _was_ always his very first makeup artist. Today she didn’t have any of his usual stylists work on him, and it had taken a bit of overtime crunching to get everything in order, but it _was_ a special occasion—she organized nearly everything, and she was damn well going to see things through properly.

Kise blinked at his reflection, tilting his head and giving a sigh. “It’s just another live show.”

“But you’re the _featured celebrity_.”

Kise grimaced. “That’s not helping.”

“Oh, are you nervous?” Rika smiled. “But you’re right, Ryou, it’s just another live show.”

Kise huffed, smiling. His older sister put both of her slender hands on his shoulders. “With you at the center of attention.”

“ _Nee-chan_ ,” Kise cried. Rika giggled, squeezing his shoulders.

“Just be yourself,” she told him, hearing on her earpiece the final calls for the show.

Kise rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck to each side. The noise of backstage production that he had tuned out gradually came flowing back, filling him with the environment, the atmosphere, the constant buzzing of _movement_. It was like a current that would easily sweep you into its course, casting you into all kinds of waters, sometimes smooth and exhilarating, sometimes rapid and dangerous. It took a different kind of strength and ability to pull ahead in that current, to stay on top of its flow and overcome every blockade. It was also the kind of current that could easily pull your feet from under you, submerging and pulling you deeper and deeper until you drown.

To Kise, the thrill was a fire that only stoked his own.

“Alright!” Kise smacked his cheeks, getting to his feet as everyone started to get called on standby. He was wide awake, gears switched up and whirring with a keen awareness of everything going on around him and every way he can move accordingly. Kise would almost reluctantly credit a large part of that to his basketball days—sure, he was already pretty keen on observation and learning even before then, but the years he spent dedicated to basketball had put him through the kind of training where reacting to a double clutch or rapid drive was similar to twisting your face into just the right expression and shifting your body just the right way when confronted with a revelation on live TV. Kise was almost grudgingly content about the fact that his basketball years were at least still useful to him, in one way or another.

“Go get ‘em, superstar,” Rika smirked, lightly punching his back.

“Thanks,” Kise smiled back, then turned thoughtful. “Now that I remember though, your script overview is a bit…vague?”

Rika waved her hand. “It’s the outline version,” her lips split into a wide grin. “Although there’s a surprise for you before the preview. I’m giving you fair warning, be grateful.”

Kise squinted as they walked towards one of the stage entrances. “Surprise? At _this_ show, of all times?”

“What, do you mean to say _the_ Kise Ryouta can’t handle a surprise or two?” his sister taunted.

Kise couldn’t help but grin. “Is that a challenge?”

“I bet ten thousand yen you’re going to be so surprised you’ll get off your seat,” she dared, lifting a knowing finger. In the background, the show had begun, the two hosts cheerfully starting the program and warming the crowd as they introduced the other celebrity guests of the show.

Kise’s energy only grew, tingling his nerves with excitement and curiosity. The money wasn’t any issue, it was the fact that his sister actually bet such an improbability—Kise _could_ be surprised, sure, but he was quick to react. His surprise would be masked with the reflexes of a basketball ace and layers of experience in the entertainment industry, armoring him with the acting chops and crowd-winning charm that propelled him to stardom. “Really now,” he beamed, completely hooked in the challenge. “Are you sure about that, nee-chan?”

Rika’s smile widened. The sparkle in Ryouta’s eyes was something she always enjoyed looking at, his positive energy so contagious as she watched her brother visibly light up in that same boyish and charismatic way that captivated his fans. “I only bet when I know I’ll win.”

Kise never knew his sister to have lost any bets, that’s for sure. But this time was different. “Well, prepare to lose,” he declared with a puff.

“We’ll see about that,” Rika said, sticking out her hand.

Kise took it. “Ten thousand yen _and_ the loser does _one thing_ the winner wants.”

“It’s a bet,” his sister smiled brightly, lightly squeezing his hand as he nodded. He let go, and was signaled to come onto the stage. He vaguely registered seeing a flash of pink in the corner of his vision, and he knew that it should have meant something to him, but couldn’t be bothered to think about it then. He closed his eyes, listening to the hosts introduce him by more or less rattling off the best parts of his resumé, building up the crowd’s anticipation just before announcing: “Please welcome onto the stage one of Japan’s top male models, rising actors, and the ‘ _Golden Boy’_ of the industry, _Kise Ryouta!_ ”

Kise opened his eyes, letting out a huff as he stepped into the spotlight—into thousands of people’s screens—and was showered with the applause and cheers and squeals of the audience. He donned his billboard-worthy smile, waving cheerily, and took his seat as the featured star of the program. Even with half a dozen celebrities at his sides, the focus was on Kise, and he took everything in perfect, near-calculated strides. They flashed pictures of his recent shoots and appearances, showed some clips, some videos; and Kise smiled and laughed and pouted and yelled as if he was maneuvering through a game and gathering all the points along the way, sweeping the crowd into a current of his own, lively and captivating just as he meant to be.

Eventually they neared the central highlight of the show: Kise’s upcoming role as a lead in a highly-anticipated TV adaptation of a novel; and the reason his fame had shot up by leagues in recent months. They were going to release the full preview as the main feature of the segment, and apart from how excited Kise was for this particular job, there was also the interesting bet that his sister had brought up that lit the back of his mind.

“Now, it’s been all over the news how you recently got cast in one of the most anticipated TV dramas of the year,” one host began. “Based on an award-winning series by the award-winning author, Takahiro Inoue-sensei,”

Kise nodded, smile softening naturally in an expression of modesty. “That’s right. It’s an exciting new experience for me.” This time, he wasn’t acting: the role was definitely a big one, probably one of his biggest breaks in his acting career; but both the role and the material were something that touched on Kise more personally than any other job before. He had taken on the audition with a fire unlike any he’s blazed in his celebrity life, and he had more personal feelings about it than he’d normally allow, but he was in nonetheless.  

“I’ve read the series,” the other host commented. “And it’s made me cry way too much. I was moved by the characters and the circumstances.”

“Aah, I think I cried reading it too,” Kise agreed, leaning back. “It’s a really great story.”

“Kise-kun’s tears!” the female host cried. “I don’t know if I’d hate to see it or love to.”

Kise chuckled. “Well maybe you’ll find out soon.” _Make them anticipate. Make them want more._

“The series is really very deep and can get high on the emotions,” the other host was nodding, thoughtful. “Could you tell us more about it, Kise-kun?”

Kise tilted his head a fraction, part in consideration and part-charming. “Well the story is about three different people, each with their own stories. And they have two things in common: a tragic incident, and love for a sport. For basketball.”

“And you’ll be one of those three leads!” the female host cooed. “Could you tell us about the role?”

Kise’s smile stretched wider, a thankful smile. “I’ll be playing the part of Takanashi Hiranobu”—a picture of an illustration of the character flashed on the screen—“A popular high school guy—captain of the basketball team, popular with the girls, smart—who gets into an accident that leaves him paralyzed from the waist down.”

The audience was a mix of gasps and sympathetic nods—it really _was_ a popular series, and having it translated onto screen was going to be big.

“Aah, I love Takanashi-kun,” the female host mused, her expression longing. “At first he wasn’t the most likeable guy, but his character development is my favorite in the series. I cried too many times!”

Kise clutched his chest with one hand and reached out with the other. “I feel you, friend.”

She clasped his hand, face twisted as if almost crying in a kindred bond. “ _Friend!_ ” she wailed.

The crowd laughed, clapping and getting swept into their flow. Kise chuckled jokingly, observing vaguely the other stars around him, how they rearranged their expressions and regulated their voices in reaction to every event. There was a certain elating pressure, like a never-ending rally in a volleyball game, or rock climbing up a boulder without any harnesses, with being surrounded by fellow celebrities—entertainers—where they all shared having a certain version of themselves specifically donned for the public. They all moved and acted in certain ways, sometimes following an ‘image’ that they projected onto the crowds, where everything about themselves that everyone could see was a job, and more work than their roles or concerts or photo shoots could ever be. It was nerve-wracking, most of the time, but Kise would be lying if he said it wasn’t _fun_.

“But hey!” one host piped up. “According to my sources, Kise-kun, you used to be a basketball player throughout middle school and high school, right?”

Kise blinked. It’s been a while since that was brought up. “Yeah, actually.”

“Uwah, is that true? I didn’t know Kise-san was an athlete!” Izumi, one of the other guest stars, exclaimed.

Beside him, the taller actor Ryouma was pondering. “I thought you had a pretty athletic build,” he considered. “Your body’s different from people who just worked out.”

Kise’s eyebrows inched up a fraction. “Is that so? I think you have some pretty good abs too, Ryouma-chan!”

The audience gushed into a high-pitched collection of squeals, the hosts clapping and hooting while the other stars were laughing good-naturedly.

“I was wondering how Ryouma-kun would wonder, but now Kise-kun’s made it clear,” the host said.

His female partner slammed her fist into her palm. “You’ve seen each other shirtless?!”

Kise was puffing his cheeks in an attempt to hold back his laugh. “To put it bluntly, yes.”

The crowd was squealing again.

“Please don’t misunderstand!” Ryouma flailed, snorting. “It’s because we’ve had some shoots together, so of course we’d have to change every once in a while.”

The female host hid her eyes with the back of her forearm. “Oh the imagery! Thank you for that imagery!”

Ryouma snorted, covering half his face with his palm. “Well, _anyway_ , what I meant to say is that Kise really does have a basketball player’s build, now that you mention it. Tall, lean, and fit.”

“Don’t worry Ryouma, your body’s great too!” Izumi cheered beside him. The audience cheerfully agreed.

Kise nodded too, and he noticed Ryouma blush deeply, a bit too deeply. _Interesting_.

“Well thanks,” Kise continued. “I’ve always been pretty into sports since I was young, but I spent the most years playing basketball.”

“So you _definitely_ have some good qualifications to play this role,” the other host nodded approvingly. “Having all those years of basketball experience under your belt.”

Kise cocked his head to one side. It really _has_ been a while since his basketball past was brought up, and quite some time since he switched to his retrospective basketball ace mode. A bittersweet knot formed at his stomach. “Yeah. And I could…relate to Takanashi to a certain extent, that’s for sure.” _Hm, that pause was a bit too long._

The hosts nodded, then broke out into identical, face-splitting grins. “On that note, it’s really a role fit for you. What does the super-producer-writer-director Kisaragi-san have to say about it?”

The producer in question, sitting alongside the other stars, crossed his arms. “I’ve had my eye on Kise-kun for a while now, but because of his modeling jobs there wasn’t much opportunity to get him in one of my dramas,” Kisaragi recalled. “Luckily though he managed to take part in the auditions and completely exceeded my expectations. I tell you, this is a Kise Ryouta no one’s ever seen before.”

The crowd reacted with _oohs_ and _ahhs,_ excitement and anticipation filling the air. Next was—

“Interesting! I’m sure we’re all looking forward to seeing it air! We’re so excited!” one host gushed. “And today we have the amazing honor of showcasing the full preview for the show!”

The suspense started to build up. Kise sat on alert, face masked with a smile.

“But before that—” the other host grinned. “We have a special surprise for our dear Kise-kun!”

There was excited, encouraging applause. The other stars beside Kise shifted in curiosity, their focus moving from Kise to the opposite side of the stage where the adjacent entrance was. It looked like they were going to be surprised as well. Maybe something will be brought out, or Kise will be made to do something. Was there supposed to be a special occasion some time? His birthday had already passed, or maybe some kind of anniversary—

“Since we were on the topic of Kise-kun’s basketball past, in relation to his new role where basketball is a big part of the story, his manager and older sister, the model Kise Rika-san managed to bring in a special guest for her brother today.” The host glanced to one side. Kise followed her gaze and found her sister standing off to the side near the audience, her grin so wide it reached her eyes, arms crossed as she obviously tried to contain her excitement.

 _A guest?_ Kise yanked his eyes away from his sister before taking full notice of the person standing next to her with the same pink he saw backstage. The hosts continued, effectively keeping everyone at the edge of their seats. “This person is someone many of you probably know, a real rising star themselves,” the host carried on. “But this is also a person Kise-kun knows quite well, more than what we all know them for right now.”

Kise’s mind started to whirr, gears working as he tried to figure out the mystery. With trying to compose his face and body language and bracing himself for the surprise, it was all pretty tricky.

“And for the love of all things great, we have the ultimate pleasure of being able to introduce him into a show— _our_ show, of all shows—for the first time,” the female host enthused, practically bouncing in her heels with her own thrill. “He’s just come from America and one of the most intense and thrilling seasons in the past years—”

Kise’s eyes widened, and his hands resting on his seat, between his legs, gripped its edges tightly. He looked back to his sister, processed more the pink-haired lady next to her mirroring her expression of excitement—

“Last year’s Rookie of the Year, an up-and-coming basketball superstar of the international stage—”

His attention was wrenched back to the hosts, to where the stage door lit up and started opening upwards. This was the surprise. The one that would shock him out of his seat, where ten thousand yen and an order was riding on a bet that he _would_ , his sister gambling such a preposterous bet that he was sure to make her lose—

But Kise could barely think about all that, couldn’t be bothered to think about the ten thousand or his sister’s undefeated streak, when he was already out of his seat.

“The poster boy of the new line of super-popular Jordans—” the door slid up, revealing a pair of feet sporting the said brand of shoes, long legs covered in dark jeans and hands stuffed into its pockets.

Kise’s heart thrashed in his chest, and he was somehow a few steps away from his seat without him realizing.

“One of the most looked-out-for, must-watch and followed rising basketball players of the international level, and one of Kise-kun’s friends—”

He wasn’t thinking. Kise’s legs somehow suddenly started carrying him across the stage as the special guest stepped into the spotlight; tall frame, tan skin, sharp eyes and all.

“Please welcome to the stage—”

Kise didn’t even let the hosts finish when he called out—

“ _Aominecchi!_ ”

His voice rang out loud and clear, and he was almost running when he practically threw himself at none other than Aomine, just barely out of the door, wearing light clothing and high-end basketball shoes and that same scowl and furrow in his brows. Their eyes met for a moment before Kise had launched himself at the basketball player, his arms flying out and wrapping around Aomine’s shoulders without a second thought.

“Whoa what—” Aomine’s arms shot out just as quickly, catching Kise on reflex and staggering back a couple of steps as Kise’s laugh tumbled out of his chest, completely unbidden.

“ _Kise?_ ” he heard Aomine say, the end of his name turning into a small laugh that made it sound like the word was a small bubble of happiness.

Kise pulled back, his arms still around Aomine’s neck as his face broke out into a grin without any effort or control or any thought at all. “Aominecchi!” he said again. “You’re here!”

Aomine blinked at him, not minding at all that they were wrapped around each other in front of god knows how many people, and the wrinkle in his brow disappeared as he smirked crookedly. “Yeah.”

Across them, as if time had stopped from the moment Kise had said Aomine’s name to the point where he had thrown himself at him in a tight hug, the audience sprung to life, erupting into a chorus of screams and cheers so loud it was almost deafening.

 

[tbc]


	2. Just be Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aomine and Kise are both amazing, but they're also grown-ass idiots, and everyone's still screaming.

It was as if a rubber band had been pulled and pulled to its longest stretch, then suddenly released. And the moments it took for the tension to ease—the whiplash back into its normal state—was like a wave right before it broke; and a loud, piercing crash resounded in reaction, bringing with it a heavy and roaring torrent.

Just so, the audience had been held in suspense when the hosts introduced their “special guest”, and the intensity only grew when Kise had suddenly gotten off his seat, coupled with the revelation of the guest—who turned out to be Aomine Daiki—and Kise ran across the stage and hugged him.

The happenings seemed to tumble out as if they were tripping down the stairs, and it took a few beats before everything more or less crashed, and the audience was squealing and cheering and exclaiming in surprise and excitement; eyes were wide, mouths were agape, and Kise had just lost a bet but he didn’t care.

The hosts had exclaimed too, but they recovered quick, shaking their heads and trying to tame the overexcited crowd. It took almost a whole minute or two just to calm everyone down, and Kise had to blink himself back into attention when he’d realized he was still on national television.

 _Just be yourself_ , his sister had told him. Kise almost laughed at how he almost didn’t quite know how to do that until then.

“Alright, alright, has everyone settled down?!” the female host laughed. “Gosh, that was _loud_. I know you’re all amazed ‘cause _wow_ we are too.”

Kise sidestepped to Aomine’s side, withdrawing his arms and smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that,” he chuckled, and he just knew his grin was way too wide because he could feel it reach his eyes, but he couldn’t reign it down. “It’s just—” he looked at Aomine. “It’s been a long time!”

Aomine looked at him, that same playful, cocky smirk on his lips as he brought a hand over Kise’s hair and ruffled it. “Yeah, long time no see, Kise.”

The audience was squealing again, and Kise wailed as he ducked away from Aomine’s hand, trying to save his hair. They were both laughing, and the sight sent the viewers tumbling down their hypothetical stairs of emotion again, swept in the wave that was the Kise Ryouta and Aomine Daiki’s reunion.

“Get back on your seat, idiot,” Aomine said as he shoved Kise, who laughed as he skittered back to his seat. The audience seemed to thrive on their every interaction, thoroughly delighted by the two personalities.

“Right, well, again,” the host cleared his throat. “We’d like to introduce our surprise special guest of our show—and for Kise-kun—the basketball star Aomine Daiki!”

Applause and cheer rang out again, this time directed solely at Aomine, who stared at the crowd like he was trying to figure out what kind of animal they were. Kise covered his mouth under his knuckles, cheeks puffing as he held back another laugh. Aomine was used to thousands of onlookers watching his every move on a basketball court, but the small audience in a small studio in their hometown seemed to be more foreign to him than the courts halfway across the Earth where he’d play.

Kise could see the unguarded and unfiltered emotions in Aomine’s expressions, honest and straightforward like he always was. The almost constant scowl, the sharp, piercing eyes, the laid back, casual stance—it was as if Kise was meeting Aomine again like it was just yesterday that they’d graduated high school.

But sitting across him, Kise could see that Aomine wasn’t all the same. His hair was longer, almost reaching his brows, and he was bigger, more built, and carried himself with a more solid air of strength and dominance. He was _intimidating_ , but not in the same way as he was back in their early high school days—this time Aomine wasn’t an unapproachable, menacing figure of raw power; but a strong, bright, almost daunting presence. Kise couldn’t help but think of likening him to the sun: this big ball of warm light and radiance that you couldn’t help but be amazed at, but also regard as something so far away.

Maybe it was because they hadn’t seen each other in so long, maybe it was because of the dozens of studio lights shining down on them, and the fact that Aomine was right there but somehow still too far out of Kise’s reach—but Aomine was so brilliant, it was dazzling.

“Well _that’s_ definitely an athlete’s build,” Kisaragi commented from the side. “And so handsome!”

“Please don’t try to pull him into your clutches,” Ryouma spat at him. “But I rest my case, athletes are really a different story. I’m actually a bit jealous.”

“Don’t worry Ryouma, like I said, you’ve still got a great body!” Izumi tried to comfort him, only resulting in Ryouma’s blood to fill his whole face in response.

“We agree with you there, Izumi-kun,” the host agreed. “And with you too, Kisaragi-san and Ryouma-kun! Aomine-san is one of the best athletes we have the pleasure of having here!”

“And for those of you who might not know,” his partner host continued. “Aomine-san was last year’s NBA Rookie of the Year, whose stunning performance in his official seasonal debut in the latter half of the previous year rocked the basketball world and spurred it into a frenzy. His _streetball, freeform_ play practically made the sport’s popularity shoot up and has since become the signature of Aomine-san’s style of basketball.”

“Let’s check out some clips of this amazing athlete!” the other host provided.

The lights dimmed as the screen on center stage blinked into a recording of a basketball match, starting off with the huddle of a team dressed in black. They all roared, like a battle cry, and stirred the audience into equally roaring cheers. The team broke the huddle and turned, five players marching towards the court as their teammates sent them off with firm fists pushing their backs forward. Aomine was put into focus on the screen, the commentator noting how he was a surprise rookie addition into the starting lineup of a national team—a shocking decision from the seasoned coach. The video cut to a scene of the tip-off, and Aomine’s team took possession of the ball in a flash, their tall center slamming the ball to their point guard as the whole team drove forward without pause. The ball went from the point guard to their shooter, who feinted against his mark, passing to their power forward who made a cut towards the basket.

The opposing team’s forward was fast, and managed to steal the ball from the double-teamed power forward, immediately shifting into a drive towards the opposite goal. They almost matched the black team’s performance in offense, switching gears in an instant and moving into a full court drive, quickly crossing into the opposite half of the court.

And it was a sudden moment, almost too fast to follow, when the ball was stolen from them in a rapid and abrupt flash, and Aomine had torn right through two players as he completely shattered the team’s momentum.

The sudden turn revealed Aomine to have been the actual power forward of the team, a shocking revelation given their team’s more experienced roster. The crowd was a mix of gasps and hoots, and Aomine was so fast, plowing through the defenders with fakes and dribbles and crossovers so agile, it almost made the rest look like turtles. When he neared the goal, two players managed to get back to defend, and everyone’s eyes were on Aomine, completely missing the split second where the ball just disappeared from his hands and appeared in his teammate’s, and the moment it took for the opposing team to realize that Aomine had made a pass was the moment Aomine stepped into their defense’s opening and jumped.

The ball was in the air just above Aomine’s head when he had soared right above the opponent’s, and he brought his hand down over it and slammed the ball straight through the hoop.

The sound of the dunk was loud and powerful, emphasized by the silence of the crowd. Aomine landed on the ground, and the basketball bounced once before the audience erupted into a crashing wave of applause and cheer, the shock and awe reverberating through the air so much that even Kise, just watching the _recording,_ could feel the energy course through him.

The next cuts of the video were a montage of scenes from different games—the commentators screaming Aomine’s name as he broke through teams’ formations and took possession of the ball, the rapid change of pace he did to tear past a defender; Aomine flying to the air and landing dunk after dunk as his name became a chant and his light only grew into this blazing fire that enchanted everyone who saw him.

_“There it is! Aomine’s formless shot!”_

_“Aomine Daiki’s just broken through a four-man defense!”_

_“The rookie sensation is now one of  the top scorers of this season!”_

Kise was mesmerized. The flurry of video clips showcasing Aomine playing in all these games and completely dominating—it was _Aominecchi_. Kise could only stare, jaw hanging open, and just watch all these heart-stopping moments of Aomine playing basketball. He was blazing so brightly, setting the basketball audience’s hearts on fire, making them jump out of their seats and scream their lungs out. It was Aomine’s basketball, and Kise felt his heart pound just from a few minutes of watching, heat and energy flowing through him; and an invisible fist squeezed at his heart.

On the video, Aomine had launched into the air and shot a basketball into the hoop like it was a shooting star, and the audio was a crescendo of screaming and cheering, Aomine and his teammates roaring to the skies as the buzzer sounded, signaling their win. The whole team pounced on Aomine and his fellow starters, the video cutting into a clip where Aomine was handed a trophy, and he raised it up with a look of triumph, mouth wide open in a huge, joyous smile as he was hoisted onto the shoulders of his team and showered in the light of the arena and the cheers of the crowd.

The video flickered off, and Kise had to blink out of his daze as the studio’s occupants gushed into a chorus of applause and cheer. Kise was still staring at the screen, letting go of a breath he didn’t know he held, then looked at Aomine. He had taken a seat across Kise and the other celebrity guests, nose scrunched as he rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, looking half-humble and half-suspicious at watching videos of himself on such a large screen.

“Aominecchi’s amazing,” Kise breathed, an involuntary slip of his tongue. He blinked when he realized that _shit_ he said that out loud, but Aomine was looking at him, and a corner of his lips quirked up into a crooked smirk, and Kise’s heart jumped.

“That he is,” the host agreed. “What do you feel about meeting again after so long?”

Kise shifted in his seat. _Right_ , he was supposed to be the featured star on this show. “It’s such a surprise!” he answered easily. “And it’s so great to see him again! It really has been long.”

The hosts smiled, nodding, then turned to Aomine, who looked like he was ready to fight them. Kise had to hold back his laugh again. “What about you, Aomine-san?”

Aomine huffed, lips downturned in its natural state. “It _has_ been a while, but you haven’t changed.”

Kise pouted. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Aomine grinned. “Yeah, it is. What, do you want me to say I missed you?”

The crowd was giggling and squealing, and Kise felt his cheeks heat up. He pouted again, crossing his arms. “Well whatever, if you don’t, then _fine_ , but for the record _I_ missed you!” he said stubbornly, puffing his cheeks and turning away.

The eruption of squeals from the audience almost made Kise jump with how sudden and high it was, and he couldn’t control his confused expression for a second before he turned his head away from the audience to rearrange it. In turning his gaze away, he was met with Aomine’s, eyebrows raised and staring at Kise with an unreadable expression. A beat passed, then Aomine snorted, lightly chuckling, looking more at ease now.

“Fine, fine,” Aomine said. “I missed you too, you big idiot. It’s really been too long, and it’s great to be back.”

If Kise was barely holding onto the controls of his expressions before that, then he’d lost control of them just then, eyes widening, taken aback, as the blood pooled to his cheeks. He flinched out of his surprise and covered his cheeks with the back of his forearm, brows furrowing as he tried to reign in his emotions. He could barely hear his thoughts under the loud squealing and cheering of the fans, and he managed an indignant pout just in time for the hosts to calm the audience down again.

“Man you guys have got a lot of catching up to do, I see,” the host laughed. “But let’s rewind a little. Tell us, how did you two meet?”

Aomine and Kise suddenly blinked into the same expression, and for a moment Kise pondered about how he would go about answering—he got _hit in the head with a basketball._ Would saying that on live TV hurt Aomine’s reputation? Would that turn Kise’s fans into Aomine’s enemies? Would it—

“I accidentally hit him with a basketball.”

Kise almost fell out of his seat. His head snapped to look at Aomine, who just shrugged, scratching the tip of his nose with a finger like it was obvious that that was how they’d meet.

“Eh?” the hosts tried.

“I was at practice, at the gym. We were doing some matches,” Aomine supplied, as if he was teaching children. “The ball flew out then hit Kise behind the head.”

Kise smacked a palm over his face. Why did he even bother with Aomine. A weight flew right out of his chest, replaced by the weird feeling of realizing that _Aomine remembered_ , and he sighed, grinning in defeat. “Yeah, that’s right. I was just minding my own business when suddenly I get pummeled by a basketball. When I picked it up Aominecchi was there.”

“That’s…well, that’s definitely interesting,” the female host gaped.

Kise laughed. “I’m kind of glad that happened, though?” he smiled. “I became curious about basketball because I hadn’t tried that yet, so I peeked at the basketball club’s practice, then saw Aominecchi go for this _amazing_ drive into the line and then just score like it was nothing. I got hooked into basketball since then.”

“Ohhh!” the hosts reacted, looking fascinated. “So Aomine-san inspired you to play basketball?”

Kise shrugged. He didn’t even bother to think about how to go about presenting himself any longer. “I guess so.”

The audience was clapping, and Kise grinned, not at all conscious anymore. He spotted Aomine in the corner of his eye and turned to find Aomine staring at him again, cheeks just a little bit darker—Kise blinked, not quite understanding the expression Aomine had on. Kise went on.

“I joined the club and got into the first string pretty quickly because I wanted to catch up to him,” he said fondly. “Then officially joined the team after a while, then we went on to become three-time champions.”

More applause. “That’s amazing!” one of the hosts praised. “If I remember correctly, Kise-kun and Aomine-san were once part of a team called the _“Generation of Miracles”_ , am I right? It was pretty popular in the sports scene before.”

Kise grimaced, and Aomine mirrored his expression. “There was a term like that, yeah,” Kise said.

“Just some name made up by the media guys,” Aomine waved his hand, clearly wanting to dismiss the issue. “We all more or less separated after middle school.”

“That’s right!” one host agreed. “That generation of high school basketball was so well-known! Some of the best games no one could _believe_ was in the high school level!”

“Aah, yeah, those were fun,” Aomine spoke, reminiscing.

The memories were easy to recall, but Kise wasn’t too keen on remembering. “Aominecchi was such a lone wolf back then! He was the ace of their team but he’d say stuff like—” and Kise furrowed his brows, dipping his voice down a few octaves in an imitation of Aomine. “ _The only one who can beat me is—_ guah!”

Suddenly Kise was met with a face full of jacket, which Aomine had apparently lobbed right at him. “Shut up you,” he heard Aomine spat, and scrambled to pull off the fabric from his face.

“ _Aominecchi!_ ” Kise wailed, clutching the jacket in his fists. The audience laughed and cheered, and Kise spotted Aomine’s faint blush as he stared daggers at Kise.

Kise couldn’t help but think it was _cute_.

He looked at the bundle of cloth in his hands and then laughed without restraint. “You really haven’t changed either, Aominecchi!”

Aomine stared at him like he was growing a second head, then gave a snort, smirking.

One of the hosts cleared their throat. “Well,” he coughed. “I’d hate to third-wheel, but I’d like to ask—what was your relationship like, before?”

The audience flew into a fit of ‘ _kyaa!’_ s and hoots, and Kise actually _did_ jerk back in his seat just as Aomine did, the athlete staring at the overexcited crowd like they’d all turned into aliens.

Kise laughed at the sight again—he’s been laughing way too much today—and waved his hand. “We were in the same year, on the same team, and Aominecchi was my idol, but I also wanted to beat him.”

“You don’t know how many times this idiot asked to play one-on-one,” Aomine sighed, pointing at Kise.

“I just said I wanted to beat you!” Kise repeated. “So of course I’d want to play with you.”

“Every. Single. Day.” Aomine pointed out.

“So you definitely spent a lot of time together, huh?” the host noted.

“Well, yeah,” Kise nodded, then narrowed his eyes. “God, _yeah_ , we spent a heck of a lot of time together.”

“I still remember you stealing my popsicle that one time, by the way,” Aomine suddenly accused. “You still owe me for that.”

Kise gaped at him. “Buy it yourself! You even ate one of my popsicles before, right off of my hand!”

"Huh? When was that?" Aomine's brows furrowed. 

"I think it was your birthday?" Kise's eyebrows scrunched in thought. "It was after practice, at the convenience store. You still had like half a popsicle and you just grabbed my wrist and went to chomp on my popsicle from behind my shoulder."

"Oh, that? You _let_ me eat it though," Aomine pouted at him.

"I—? Okay, right, it was your birthday so I let you," Kise groaned. "But that should make us even!"

"Hey, you took one of mine without permission! You owe me one."

"Geez, you could buy it yourself!" Kise complained.

“ _Hey_ , you _owe me_ a popsicle,” Aomine was seriously staring him down. 

Kise threw up his hands. “Fine! I’ll get you your stupid popsicle,” he gave up. “Even though you’re a big shot basketball player now…”

“A popsicle’s a popsicle.”

“You make no sense.”

“You’re just stupid.”

“Says the grown-ass man still hung up over a popsicle!”

“That was an _expensive popsicle._ ”

“Like I _said_ , you’re a big shot basketball player now, you can afford _hundreds_ of those.”

“You still owe me. A debt’s a debt.”

“ _It’s a popsicle._ ”

“ _A debt’s a debt._ ”

Kise threw Aomine’s jacket back at his face, but the big shot basketball player in him caught it in midair right before it hit him. Aomine started laughing, and Kise was pouting, but Aomine’s laugh sounded so infectious, so carefree and _happy_ , that Kise started laughing too. He could barely notice the crowd laughing and cheering in the background, and just left it up to the hosts to handle it instead.

“ _Fine_ , you win, jeez,” Kise sighed.

“Aah, It’s great to see how nothing seems to have changed between you two!” the female host gushed, eyes all sparkly. “Kise-kun, what can you say about Aomine-san’s success as a basketball player?”

Kise shrugged. “I’m not really surprised,” he answered easily. “I knew that if there was anyone who could make it in the international basketball scene, it’s Aominecchi.”

Somehow, without really noticing, Kise had lost all the nervousness he had accumulated before the show, getting filled instead with a sense of light happiness that calmed him and made him just forget about all the pretenses he had to keep up. He just felt that he didn’t need to, not with Aominecchi right there.

 _Just be yourself_ , his sister had told him.

“Well, that’s definitely true, given how successful he is right now,” the host said. “But what about you, Aomine-san, what do you think of Kise-kun’s success in his career?”

Aomine thought for a moment, cocking his head as he considered the question. “Nothing, really? Kise was always popular, and he could always do anything, so I guess I’m not surprised either?”

Kise found himself smiling. _‘He could always do anything,’_ Aomine said. It made Kise feel a bit warm inside.

“What do you think about Kise-kun and basketball? About how he used to play but didn’t pursue it?”

Kise’s chest tightened, and he averted his eyes.

“Kise and basketball…?” he heard Aomine say. After a moment Aomine sighed, then jabbed a finger at Kise’s direction. “Okay you dumbass, I’ll only say this once so listen up.”

Kise’s head snapped up to look at Aomine, surprised. Aomine looked him square in the face. “You’re a good basketball player and there _were_ some close matches between us, okay, I admit it. And about not pursuing it, well it was your choice but it wasn’t a stupid one, considering all your other stupid-ass decisions.”

Kise made a face. “I heard the compliment— _somewhere_ in there, but—”

“Don’t make that face, that was a compliment. Like, three compliments, even.” Aomine sat back, huffing. “Be grateful.”

Kise furrowed his brows, then snorted, breaking out into another laugh. “Okay, _thanks_. It means a lot, coming from Mr. Big Shot Basketball Superstar and—do _not_ throw that at me again.”

Aomine squinted at Kise, one arm raised with the bunched up jacket ready to be fired at the blonde. He lowered it with a puff and softened when Kise let out a small chuckle.

“Well, that’s really…sweet? Aomine-san,” the host tried, laughing. “And you’re right, we thank Kise-kun from the bottom of our hearts for choosing this side of the spectrum and gracing us with his presence.”

Applause and cheers of agreement. Kise sighed, flashing another bright smile. “Well I wouldn’t want to leave any of my fans!” More applause, more cheer.

To the side, Aomine snorted.

“Quiet, you,” Kise snapped playfully at him.

“But now basketball’s back in Kise-kun’s life!” the host announced. “With the new role he’ll be playing for the upcoming super-anticipated drama!”

“And again, we are happy to have the honor to present to you all the _full preview_ of this popular series’ adaptation! And _finally,_ we’ll get to see it!”

Kise beamed, sitting up. “Yay!” he echoed the crowd’s excitement, but his heart started to thump loudly in his chest again, feeling his pulse make his limbs restless.

The lights dimmed again and the large screen blinked into a black image, letters fading into the introduction of the story. After a few seconds, the screen faded into a school setting, then an outdoor area of the school, then the outside of the gym, where the sounds of rubber shoes squeaking and basketballs bouncing flittered through. Then there was a horde of students cheering as boys played on the court, and Kise showed up on screen (the studio audience started squealing in delight), doing a crossover feint before going in for a jump shot, making the students hoot and cheer as the screen went back to a shot of Kise, with shorter hair and without any piercings, but it wasn’t _really_ Kise—it was his character, Takanashi Hiranobu, looking all proud and condescending, and almost completely stuck up. The screen flashed into a few scenes that showed how great this Takanashi was—smart, athletic, popular with the ladies, effortlessly talented and skilled, but more or less full of himself—and then he was riding on a bicycle with a girl, being chased by some huge guy, while then they were crossing the road, and a truck was coming right at them.

The scene cut out just before the truck collided with them, and suddenly Kise—Takanashi—was being wheeled in the hospital, looking completely battered, bloodied and broken, the music swelling into a flurry of strings and heavy notes as the doctors and nurses spoke in rapid, panicked succession, and Takanashi’s hand went limp against the side of the hospital bed.

Then there was another shot of Takanashi covered up in bandages and bruises and breathing through a tube, unconscious on a hospital bed, and a voice over saying that his spine was damaged. That he was paralyzed. A montage of scenes followed it—a basketball game against a delinquent and a guy on a wheelchair, the roaring tires of the chair as fierce as the eyes of the man riding it, reflected in Takanashi’s eyes as scenes of his awakening showed how his legs weren’t his anymore, where he fell limp and helpless without any control of his lower body, where he burned his arms to their limits rolling a wheelchair down a hall and towards a glass door, the screen going black right before the sound of shattering glass broke through the music. There was blood, and Takanashi’s face was twisted in anger and hopelessness, expression as shattered as the glass, and the sound of his panting and gasping was the only sound heard, his gasps building up as he brought a bloodied hand to his face, covering his eyes, and he took a sharp breath, one that was meant to tumble out of him into a scream, as tears started leaking under his hands, but the scene was cut to the title card with a muffled beat, the sad notes of a piano silently ending the preview.

And it was silent. The studio gently lit up, the audience quiet, small murmurs whispered here and there. Then they applauded, their clapping growing louder and louder as the seconds passed, and some people stood up, and Kise was able to breathe.

After a few moments, the hosts perked back up. “Wh-whoa!! That was _great!_ That was so _intense!_ I’m feeling so emotional right now!” one flailed.

“Oh my god, I am _so_ excited to see the drama now!” his partner flailed alongside him. “I’m so excited to see your performance, Kise-kun! And your directing, Kisaragi-san!”

“Please look forward to it,” both Kise and Kisaragi said as they bowed, smiling.

The crowd was cheering, and Kise was bowing in gratitude until the applause started to die down. Then he turned to Aomine, face slightly flushed, and asked, “What did you think, Aominecchi?”

Aomine blinked at him, eyes slowly focusing back to Kise. “That—” he breathed. “Holy shit Kise, that was _amazing_.”

Kise’s eyes widened, and a blush bloomed in his cheeks almost instantly. “You think so?” he almost stuttered.

“ _Yeah,_ ” Aomine’s eyes were shining. “I could _feel_ what was going on. I didn’t think you were that good an actor, what the hell.”

Kise spluttered, trying to force himself to recover from his flustered blushing. “Well thanks,” he managed.

“Kise-san, that _was_ amazing!” Izumi piped up. “It was only a few clips but I could feel every emotion and that last _scene_ —” the younger actor made motions with his hands. “—there was so much suspense and just— _wow_.”

Kise couldn’t fight his blush down anymore, the happiness boiling up his system as much as his blood was. “Coming from you, Izumi-chan, that means a lot! Thank you!” Izumi was definitely a more seasoned actor than Kise, having come from a celebrity family and everything, so it was a big deal for Kise. Beside him, another more experienced actor, Ryouma, was nodding fervently.

“That was really intense,” Ryouma was saying excitedly. “I agree with Izumi. I can’t wait to see your performance!”

KIse was bowing over and over in honest gratitude, the fullness in his chest welling up even more and stomping away his nerves. “Thank you,” he kept saying, all sincerity.

The other guest celebrities and the hosts continued to give their comments about the preview and the little bits of Kise’s performance that was shown. They all expressed their excitement, and Aomine threw his jacket at him again ( _‘Stop that face you’re still stupid’)_ , and Kise was smiling so much that his cheeks started to hurt. When had he last smiled so widely and laughed so freely? Kise couldn’t quite remember.

The show ended on a high note, the energy still buzzing and sparking through the air, and it seemed to go by in a flash when they all said their goodbyes to the viewers and the cameras started rolling off.

“We hope you enjoyed today’s episode! Show your support for Aomine Daiki in the upcoming preseason games, and look forward to our very own Kise Ryouta and his hugely popular TV adaptation coming soon on our channel!” the hosts had said, the cameras showing a shot each of every guest in the show, ending with Aomine scowling, then Kise winking and waving goodbye. “Have a great weekend, everyone!”

 

# # #

 

_Backstage_

 

“Ryoutaaaa!!”

The air was knocked right out of Kise’s lungs when his sister pounced on him in a running hug, and Kise stumbled back and sucked in a breath before gasping out, “Rika-nee!”

“I’m so proud of you, little bro,” Rika said, squeezing her taller brother tight. “You did great and that preview was great!”

Kise smiled, hugging her back. “Thanks, nee-chan—”

“And you lost the bet! Ha!” Rika jumped back and put her fists on her hips.

Kise visibly slumped, but remained smiling. “Yeah yeah, just grab the ten thousand from one of my accounts,” he sighed. “So? You can get me to do one thing you want. What’ll it be? A photo shoot? A commercial? An audition?” Kise’s sister never tried to push him to do certain jobs, especially if he really didn’t want to—a bit of persuasion and motivation sometimes let her get her way, but not always, and she didn’t want to force him into anything—but an agreement like this, even a bet, was something Kise would see through to the end.

Rika looked thoughtful. “Hmm,” she mumbled. “Let me think about it.”

Kise raised an eyebrow. “…Alright. Consider it an IOU.”

His sister stuck out her pinky. “Pinky promise?”

It was childish, but Kise was sticking out his finger anyway. “Pinky promise.”

Their little fingers locked, and they shook on it, then Rika reached up and ruffled her brother’s hair fondly, squealing. “Aah you were so great today, Ryou! Did you like my surprise?!”

Kise grabbed his sister and practically started wrestling her head under his arms. “You—you _really_ surprised me there, you!” he gushed. “I was so happy! How did you even get Aominecchi here?!”

“I have my connections!” she said, struggling in Kise’s grip but then attacking him with another hug. They were both laughing and celebrating like dorks and nothing bad could penetrate the wall of positivity the siblings had formed between them.

Kise was still hugging his sister when he spotted Aomine’s tall head sticking out of a small group of people surrounding him. They were a mix of some of the guest stars and production staff getting autographs and asking questions, and Kise took that moment to just stare at Aomine’s profile. He was definitely bigger, seemingly taller, and still so bright, maybe brighter than before. When Aomine caught his eye, his face twisted into an expression that screamed “ _Get me out of here,”_ and Kise had to hold back his laugh when he nudged his sister from his arms.

“Thanks again, nee-chan,” Kise smiled sweetly at her. “I think I’ll go and help your surprise before he gets dragged away.”

Rika followed his gaze and giggled, stepping to the side with a nod. “Alright, I’ll be around back in a bit. You’ve got a few minutes!”

Kise waved as she retreated, then turned to approach Aomine.

“Aominecchi!” Kise called out.

Aomine snapped his head to look at him, expression easing after their eyes met. The people surrounding Aomine turned to look at Kise as well, then greeted him. Kise graciously greeted them back, shaking the hands of some, getting pictures with others, and tugging away their attention for Aomine.

“Thanks everyone,” Kise told them, bright smile lighting up his face. “I hope you’ll support the new drama!” The small group of people agreed wholeheartedly. “And I hope you’ll excuse me, but I’d like to borrow Aominecchi now.”

He flashed them his billboard-worthy smile, and they all stopped to gaze for a moment before agreeing, saying eager goodbyes and waving as they left. Kise heard Aomine sigh as soon as they were out of ear’s reach, and Kise couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling his energy pulse through him in another wave with the excitement of meeting Aomine again.

“Oh hey, Aominecchi,” Kise stepped in front of him. “Sorry about earlier.”

Aomine raised an eyebrow. “Earlier?”

“When I kinda…jumped on you,” Kise scratched the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “Something happened to your foot, didn’t it?”

Aomine stared at him, open surprise on his face, then sighed through his nose. “You really picked up on a lot of habits, huh.“

Kise smirked, cocking his head innocently. All those years of copying his basketball peers gave him a bunch of different skills he somehow got stuck with, like Kuroko’s observation. Aomine sighed again. “It’s my ankle. I thought I was hiding it pretty well.” No one but Satsuki and his basketball team knew. It was supposed to be a secret.

Kise didn’t push the issue, chuckling. “You are, you are. I’m just that observant,” he said, with no shortage of pride. Learning to become a shadow on the court had been one of the more challenging copies for Kise, who naturally got attention like a magnet. It took him more time and focus, he almost didn’t notice _himself_ stepping into the shadow of his team, using both his sharpened observation skills for misdirection and for strategy. And now he was just the right amount of perceptive and observant for the industry he’s found himself working in.

Aomine ruffled his hair. “Cocky idiot,” he smirked.

Kise smiled back. “Is that why you’re here? Your ankle?”

They started walking across the backstage, maneuvering through the busybodies buzzing about. “Yeah, it’s not that bad, but everyone’s in a damn frenzy about it. They got me to vacation here for a while mostly to keep people over there from finding out I got hurt.”

“The competition sounds scary,” Kise almost shuddered.

“Eh, it’s my team being way too damn careful,” Aomine shrugged. “Feels like I’m being treated like a kid.”

Kise leaned close to peer at Aomine’s expression, then his lips curled into a knowing smile. “It’s because they care about you, isn’t it? They want to take care of you, Mr. Superstar.”

Aomine side-eyed him, brows furrowed. He squinted at Kise, then shoved his hand over the blonde’s face.

“ _Geh!_ ” Kise spluttered, flailing away. “Aominecchi!”

Aomine snorted at him, a smile playing at his lips. Kise huffed but smiled back, and they both started laughing again, relaxing into each other’s company as the years in which they hadn’t seen each other seemed to finally sink in, and suddenly it felt like they needed more time.

A flash of pink flittered into Kise’s vision, and this time when he looked, he caught sight of a pink-haired lady chattering with his older sister by the door, her laugh all too familiar.

“Is that—” Kise started, stepping ahead. The pink-haired person turned slightly, eyes meeting Kise’s. “ _Momocchi!_ ”

Momoi gasped, bouncing in place as an excited smile took over her face. “ _Ki-chan!_ ”

She ran up to him and gave him a hug, Kise’s happiness bubbling up as much as Momoi squeezed him like she was trying to make up for all the years she hadn’t hugged him. After a while Momoi pulled her head back and looked up at him, and Kise felt his heart clench. “Momocchi, are you _crying_?”

Momoi sniffed, withdrawing her hand and rubbing her eyes furiously. “ _No_ , I just—I missed you Ki-chan!”

Kise’s smile only grew. “I missed you too, Momocchi,” he said, gently stroking his hand through her hair. “It was you nee-chan was talking to about this surprise, wasn’t it?”

Momoi sniffed one more time, then smiled up at him. “Yep! We sure got you!”

Behind her, Rika stuffed some paper down her pockets with a sheepish grin. Kise raised an eyebrow. “Did you—did you _both_ bet on it?”

Momoi pulled back and stuck out her tongue, just as Rika did the same, both of them flashing a peace sign. “Momoi-chan’s future predictions sure are great,” Rika grinned.

“You two…” Kise groaned. Eh, he lost the bet either way.

It was then that he realized that Aomine was no longer beside him. Kise looked around, finding Aomine standing a little ways back from where they came from, speaking to the producer-writer-director Kisaragi Jin. Aomine didn’t even bother to act pleasant, but accepted the business card Kisaragi handed to him. He caught sight of Kise and glanced in their direction. Kisaragi followed his gaze and waved when he spotted Kise, giving a thumbs up before nodding and leaving the other direction.

“I take my eyes off of you for a few seconds and now you’re getting offers from super-producers? Aren’t you a busy guy,” Kise said as Aomine approached.

“Bah,” Aomine spat, stuffing a hand into his pocket. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s called “ _being friendly”_ , you should try it.”

Aomine flicked Kise’s nose. Kise yelped, hand flying to cover his instantly sore nose. “You brute,” Kise pouted.

Aomine only laughed. Kise blinked at how nice that sounded to him, realizing how rarely he got to hear it.

“Aomine-chan!” Rika clapped delightedly when they neared. “Thanks so much for coming today!”

Momoi bumped sides with Rika, and Aomine looked at them. Rika stood less than a foot shorter than Kise, with the same blonde hair and long fluttering eyelashes. She had bigger, rounder eyes a bit more on the caramel side, and a slender body, torso pinched into a slim waist befitting a model like herself.

“Sure,” Aomine said. “To make up for it, your number—”

Kise was in front of his sister in a flash, all pouty lips and furrowed brows staring straight at Aomine. “Oh no you don’t.”

“What,” Aomine frowned, shifting his leveled to meet his eyes.

“You are _not_ hitting on my sister,” Kise said decisively.

Aomine stared at Kise, still that tiny bit shorter than him, with impeccably soft hair and fair skin, and fiery amber eyes, like jewels backlit by the sun. His lips looked soft, and the tufts of his hair fell over his brows with so much grace, Aomine wanted to tug on a clump and pull until Kise falls over.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, can’t blame a guy for trying,” Aomine said, smirking slightly, stepping around the Kise siblings and walking ahead of them.

Kise narrowed his eyes. That seemed too easy. But he’d be there for his sister anyway, so it’s not like Aominecchi would have a chance to get a pass at her. Kise was determined.

Behind him, his sister was giggling. “You guys are so cute,” she said. “It’s like more than half a decade hasn’t passed between you two. That’s nice.”

Kise had to agree with her, but at the same time, watching Aomine walk ahead of them towards the exit, pulling the door open and getting struck by the light of the outside sun, Kise was filled with the urge to reach out and grab his shirt, and keep him there. He stared at that broad back, that strong silhouette being lined by the setting sunlight, and somehow felt like the hours in the day were too short, too fleeting, and that Aomine was just going to disappear again, for years. Kise had never quite felt the truth in realizing how important something was until it’s gone, right there. His words started bubbling up in his throat, and for a moment Kise was afraid they were all going to spill out into a horrible mess of syllables, when Aomine turned and held the door open.

“Ooh, what a gentleman,” Rika giggled, walking ahead.

“Don’t let that fool you,” Momoi muttered, pushing her forward. She gave a pointed look to Aomine, who shrugged, mischievous. When he turned to Kise, almost letting go of the door, he stopped upon seeing his face.

“What’s with the face?” Aomine asked, one eyebrow raised.

Kise pushed his feet forward, stopping a few steps short of the exit where Aomine held the door open. “Nothing,” Kise mumbled, shaking his head and pulling on a wide smile. “Let’s go.”

Aomine’s brows furrowed slightly, staring at Kise’s smile and getting the urge to throw something at it. Maybe then it would turn into a different face that didn’t make Aomine want to get rid of it. Maybe it’ll look less weird, more… _Kise_.

They stepped outside and walked towards the parking lot, where there were cars waiting for the two pairs. Rika spun around and gave Momoi a tight hug, thanking her again for that day and promising to meet again for cakes sometime. Kise and Aomine both rolled their eyes at the girls, at wonder over the amazing ritual that was female bonding and how…fluffy it seemed. Rika bade farewell to Aomine, while Kise got another hug from Momoi, another tight one to compensate for the years they hadn’t seen each other.

Momoi was being ushered into the car, and Kise was waving, but he was stuck. He couldn’t move. When Aomine moved towards the car after speaking to Rika, Kise’s hand flew to the edge of his shirt, but stopped short of grabbing it. But before Kise could step back and turn away, Aomine stopped.

“Hey, Kise,” he said, turning.

Kise almost jumped, and looked him, saw the shadows shaping Aomine’s face frame those midnight blue eyes. “Hm?”

“Give me your number.”

Kise stared at him, not quite processing what Aomine had just said. “What.”

“Give me your number, or your e-mail,” Aomine said, almost impatient.

“Oh,” Kise managed to say. “Oh, okay. Sure.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it, then stuck it back in his pants.

“What, are you—”

“Shush,” Kise interrupted. He stuck his hand in his other pocket and pulled out a different phone, swiping it open.

“Wow, two phones,” Aomine commented. “Who’s the big shot now?”

“Shut up,” Kise snapped, pouting. “I got too used to pulling out the other one—that’s my work phone. This is my personal phone.”

“Oh,” Aomine said this time. “Alright, cool, I guess. So I’m special?”

“Are we exchanging numbers or—”

“Yeah yeah, calm your pretty face, send it over,” Aomine stuck out his phone and they sent their numbers to each other. Kise looked at the digits for a moment before raising his phone to Aomine’s face and taking a photo.

Aomine blinked. “What did you just—”

“Contact photo!” Kise smiled, setting the photo over Aomine’s number. “Nice face.”

Aomine looked like he was about to wrestle with Kise for his phone, but instead took a picture of Kise’s face in revenge.

“Hey!” Kise complained.

“Geh, I’m not good at this,” Aomine frowned at the picture. “It’s blurry.”

“Here, let me,” Kise offered, snatching Aomine’s phone from him. He poked the screen a couple of times then positioned it in front of him, flashing a smile right as he took a photo of himself. “There,” he said, satisfied. “Now you have an official selfie from me.”

Aomine snatched back his phone, then looked at the photo above Kise’s name and number. The sunlight cast a gold halo onto Kise, making him glow, his smile bright and sparkly and stupid. Aomine’s frown pulled lower, but he settled for grunting out a sigh, stuffing his phone back in his pocket and running a hand through his hair. “Well thanks, superstar, I feel so blessed,” Aomine said flatly, but a smirk pulled at his lips. He moved to grab the car door.

“Um, will we—” Kise suddenly blurt out, eyes falling to stare at his feet. “No, I mean—” he looked back up, straight at Aomine’s eyes. “Can we meet again?”

Aomine saw the sun reflect in Kise’s eyes, so bright and honest and full of hope. For a moment he just stood there and stared, almost at wonder at how sunlight really suited Kise. He found himself smiling, wide. “Yeah. Let’s meet again. I’ll call you.”

Kise looked like a fire that was fed more air, flaring up with so much brightness, Aomine was almost dazzled. “I’ll see you soon, then,” he said, grinning wide. Aomine couldn’t help but smile in return. _That_ was a face he didn’t want to get rid of.

“Oi _, Aomine!_ Are you hitting on my brother?!” they heard Rika yell from their car a few parking spaces down.

“ _Yeah_ , and you can’t stop me!” Aomine yelled back, mischievous and playful.

“ _Why you little—!_ Ryouta get away from him I’m coming!”

Rika started stomping towards them. Aomine pulled the car door open and stuck a foot inside. “ _I already have his number!_ ” he called out, getting out a final tease before jumping into the backseat and looking at Kise with that huge grin. “I’ll see you, Kise.”

“Yeah...” Kise muttered. “See you.”

Aomine nodded once then closed the door, the car rolling out of the parking slot and veering to the exit. Kise watched the car, and Aomine, just drive away into the distance, and vaguely registered his sister reaching his side to tug him into their car.

He was lugged along and dumped into the backseat, and his sister drove happily, humming sweetly as the sun set. It was then that Kise realized how hot his face felt, and that his heart was pounding in his chest so hard it almost hurt. The skies darkened into night, and the moon and stars were twinkling bright above them, but all Kise could see were midnight blue eyes.

 

[tbc]

 

(Please refer to [this](http://38.media.tumblr.com/d2af5745542833d9e3006337b805c5c5/tumblr_inline_nidocwCySu1rprg13.jpg) blessing of an official art for the popsicle imagery)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the fun begins.


	3. Jetlag's a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you take me for, an idiot?”
> 
> “Well—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to cut this one because it was getting long, which means look! An early update! And will probably update on the weekend. 
> 
> Also, if anyone recognized the reference I used for the series the drama Kise's in is based off of, come to me let me /love you/

Under the sun, Kise would sometimes look up to the sky and just smile at how _bright_ it was. The light gave him energy, and made him want to tackle the day with all he’s got. Kise was a morning person. Or he’d like to think that he was a morning person. At least, when the definition of morning didn’t include the hours immediately following midnight, where most of which did not, in fact, involve any actual sunlight.

It didn’t agree with him, the idea that pitch black skies and barely any light at all was considered _morning_. It took more effort and strength than usual to fix himself up when he had those ungodly call times at the most ungodly hours. Sleep recharged him, but the sun woke him up; _powered_ him. Kise was barely up when he had to get dragged by his impossibly chipper older sister into the shower, dragged out, stuffed into clothes, and dragged into the elevator. There, at least, Kise had developed the ability to stay upright regardless of his levels of consciousness, but had to get dragged out of the elevator and out the glass doors of the condo where he lived, and dragged into the back of a car where he had flopped over on his sister’s lap and collapsed back to sleep.

When he was shaken awake, it was _still_ dark, and therefore not morning in Kise’s eyes. But his sister still greeted him “good morning” for the fourth time since getting him out of his bed, and hoisted him upright with a big sister’s strength and pulled him out of the car. He employed his ability to stay standing despite his state of half-consciousness, and his sister stood in front of him and smacked both his cheeks with her palms.

Kise yelped, tears immediately pooling in the corner of his eyes. “ _Rika-nee_ that hurt,” he cried, all his words coming out like a child’s whine. Kise rubbed both cheeks, groaning, and wrenched his eyes open, blinking rapidly as he tried to focus. Once Rika made sure that Kise was at least more than just half-awake, she pushed him into the studio building and towards the elevator.

“You need another smack?” Rika asked him when the doors slid closed.

Kise sighed. “Nah, I’m good,” he mumbled, rubbed his eyes, then shook his head. He smacked his own cheeks with loud claps and let out a huge huff. “M’awake,” he announced.

“Good morning!” Rika said again, beaming.

“It’s not morning if it’s this dark,” Kise muttered, mostly to himself. “Good morning,” he told her anyway.

When the elevator dinged open, they were greeted warmly, and Kise was as bright as he could manage, pulling on a smile in front of everyone else who got up earlier than him. He wasn’t at one hundred percent yet, and his body just _knew_ that the sun wasn’t out still, but he was going to punch those ungodly hours in the gut and beat them to a pulp.

 

# # #

 

It was still dark when Aomine found himself sitting upright on the sheets, hair tousled, brows knotted, and wide awake at _three fucking AM_ in the morning.

Jetlag is a bitch.

He had tossed around in bed until he was somehow sitting up, and he was _tired_ but he couldn’t sleep and god _damn_ he forgot how jetlag worked. He was usually much better at sleeping than this, and he hated being awake when he had no business being awake, especially at these stupid ungodly hours.

Aomine groaned, ripping the blanket off of him and jumping out of bed. He landed with a wince when he forgot that he had a stupid ankle thing that he’s been cursing for _weeks_ since no one’s letting him play basketball because of it. He rocked on his heels a few times, rolling his foot to stretch it out, then glared at the clock.

Three fifteen. He smacked a palm over his face, frustrated because _he was not supposed to be awake at this time_. Standing there, awake and annoyed, Aomine growled, then leaned forward until he fell towards the floor, face first, and caught himself just before slamming onto the ground as he did a series of pushups.

By the time he breached two hundred, his ankle started complaining like a little shit, so he decided to cap it off at two-fifty, hoisting himself up and glaring at the clock

It wasn’t even four AM yet.

Aomine cursed at the ceiling and huffed towards the refrigerator, downing two glasses of water and stuffing some ice into a bag. He sat in the middle of the room, on the floor, with his legs outstretched, nursing the ice pack over his ankle as he finished a large helping of milk. For minutes he just sat there, glaring at his stupid ankle, and waited. It didn’t take long before he was fed up of it and started digging around his bag—he hadn’t completely unpacked yet, more or less just flinging out whatever he needed and subsequently making a mess—and fished out his jacket, phone tumbling out of the bag with it. He looked at the jacket for a few moments, jet black and gold lined with white accents and the bold flash of lightning in the logo of the Thunderbolts, his team. Aomine’s eyes softened before he slung the jacket over the nearest ledge, then picked up his phone.

It was a little past four. Aomine scrolled through his messages—his coach asking if he had a safe flight back to Japan, some of his teammates telling him to bring back some sweets, try not to play basketball, if you hurt your leg any more I’ll break it—Aomine sighed, but not without warmth. He tapped replies back to pass the time, then spotted new messages coming in from Satsuki.

Figures she’d also be going through jetlag, and figures that she’d rather be working since she wasn’t sleeping. Aomine read through her messages: “ _If you’re like me and are awake at this time, do NOT do anything that would hurt your ankle. I repeat, DO NOT do anything that would hurt your ankle. That includes any exercise that involves putting unnecessary weight and stress on it,_ especially _basketball, you hear?_ ”

Aomine rolled his eyes. Satsuki’s messages went on. _“Put ice every so often.” “Make sure you’re eating the protein stuff coach got you.” “They’re in the small red box on the fridge, if you didn’t know.”_

Aomine sighed, exasperated. Satsuki had somehow taken it upon herself to be Aomine’s mom. He resisted replying “yes mom” as he scrolled down to her more recent messages.

_> > Good job yesterday, by the way! Ki-chan was so happy!_

Aomine couldn’t stop the smirk that curled up his lips. Kise’s weight and warmth was still fresh in his mind, the way he laughed and smiled still the same, but somehow also different. Aomine continued scrolling.

_> > And you got Kisaragi Jin’s attention! That’s great!! We should talk about the offer, Dai-chan. PLEASE._

He rolled his eyes again. He wasn’t entirely sure why the hell he accepted the invitation to appear on that show, but Kise was involved so he felt like he might as well, for the heck of it, maybe. Aomine shrugged it off as a bout of goodwill, sentimentality and nostalgia playing at him. He didn’t want much to do with that world where celebrities bathed in the light of camera flashes and studio lights and had all these different faces. That was Kise’s playing field, not his. Aomine was pretty sure he’d screw that up. Basketball was simple, honest, and he’s survived the limelight on that field so far.

Another new message popped up from Satsuki. _“It would be good to accept! I’ll come over so we could talk about it okay!”_

“Geh,” Aomine flinched. He stared at his phone, thinking of how to get out of having to talk about the offer, when a thought occurred to him.

With a few taps, Aomine pulled up his most recent contact. A simple _Kise_ was listed under a photo of the smiling blonde, and Aomine just stared for a few seconds. He really did look the same, just more made up, a bit sharper around the edges, less like the boy that had marched right up to their gym loudly announcing his intention to join, and more like the opponent that had stared right into Aomine and sped past him with his exact movements, a copy of him. Aomine could just _hear_ the insistent “Aominecchi! Let’s play one-on-one!” in his head, and smiled.

 _Aominecchi_. It’s been a while.

Without thinking, he poked the call button and brought the phone to his ears, shifting his foot under the ice pack slowly melting over it. After a few rings he belatedly realized that it was barely even _five in the morning_ , and Kise obviously wouldn’t be jet lagged, so why the heck would he—

“Aominecchi?”

Aomine almost jumped in surprise, not expecting to hear Kise’s voice answer on the other end of the line. “Kise,” he managed. “Did I wake you?”

“Ah, no, you didn’t,” Kise replied. Aomine could hear the faint noise of other people on Kise’s side. “I’ve been up for a while now. I’m just on break from a shoot.”

“Oh, really,” Aomine said simply.

“Aominecchi why are you awake,” Kise chuckled. It was light and made Aomine feel light too. “Can’t sleep?”

Aomine leaned his back on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, I’ve been fucking awake since three and I can’t stand it.”

Kise was laughing again, and in the background there were people talking and mulling about. “Do some pushups or something.”

“Already did. Like two hundred, Jesus Christ.”

Kise laughed louder, and Aomine found himself smiling. “That’s too much!” Kise was still chuckling. “You’re gonna hurt your ankle!”

“Shut up that’s supposed to be a secret,” Aomine snapped.

“Whoops, sorry.” Aomine could still hear the smile in Kise’s voice. “So why did you call me?”

“Let’s hang out.”

There was a pause. “Eh?”

“How busy are you, superstar?” Aomine asked. “I wanna go somewhere.”

“Er, well, I’m free for lunch? Like late lunch. Really late lunch. Wait.” There was shuffling, and Kise talking to someone from far away. There was a yell in reply, then Kise’s voice came back on. “Ah, Rika-nee said I’m free after this!?” Kise sounded like he was surprised about it himself. “One of my appointments was moved!”

Aomine visibly lit up. “Great,” he said. “Let’s eat. I’ll pick you up.”  

“You’ll what—” someone was calling Kise on his end, and Kise spluttered into the receiver. “I’ll be right there!” he was saying to someone. “Aominecchi, you’ll _what_?”

“I’ll pick you up,” Aomine repeated. “Sounds like you’re busy. You go do your thing, I’ll see you later.”

“Wait what—”

Aomine flicked the call off, standing up on one leg as he lifted the ice pack off his ankle and dumped it in the sink. He finally switched the lights on and padded to the refrigerator to grab a red box. When he opened it, a small note was stuck above everything, saying, _“Take care. Eat plenty. Coach.”_ Aomine tugged it out and stuck it under the lid of the box, grabbing two of the snack bars and immediately chomping on one. He tucked the box back into the fridge and moved to the bathroom, shrugging off his clothes along the way. He tried to take his time in the shower but still finished quick, tried to take a while changing but dressed up in an instant, grabbing some sunglasses and a cap and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. He wanted to jog, but Satsuki would have his head, so he settled for chomping on a few more of those snack bars and glaring at the clock until he stomped out of the apartment just past seven.

One of the wrappers of his snack bar slipped out of his hands and fell on floor of the entryway as he left, a discarded piece of evidence to his escape.

 

# # #

 

There were excited whispers and hushed giggles when Kise spotted Aomine in the hall, hands in his pockets and head bowed slightly under the shade of his cap. He wore sunglasses over his eyes and looked for all the world like a celebrity, himself.

“Aominecchi?” Kise said, stumped. He stepped out of the studio and approached the basketball star, running a hand through his hair and blinking repeatedly, as if unsure that what he was seeing was real.

Aomine looked up. “Yo,” he said, pulling his sunglasses off to reveal those deep navy blue eyes. “You done?”

Kise was still blinking. “Yeah, almost,” he replied simply. “Were you waiting long?”

“Nah, just got here,” Aomine waved his hand. _About an hour ago._

“Ryouta!” Rika suddenly called from behind him. She jogged to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, huffing out a few pants before looking up at him. “Good work today!” she smiled. “I forgot to tell you, since you were doing your zombie thing this morning but your ratings are off the charts!”

“Huh? Why?” Kise cocked his head to the side.

“Because of yesterday, you fruit loop,” Rika laughed, poking his nose. “The feature, the _preview_ , that _thing you did!_ Everyone’s in love with you all over again.”

“Oh,” Kise’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what _‘thing I did’_?”

“You know, when you leapt into Aomine’s arms in such an _adorable_ —peh!”

Kise squished his sister’s cheeks, flushing. “Oh my god, don’t say it that way,” he pleaded, his own cheeks burning.

Rika was laughing all muffled in between Kise’s hands. She swiped them away and beamed at her brother. “Anyway, _everyone’s_ talking about you. Your popularity’s gone up even more, the drama’s getting sponsorship calls here and there, _we’re_ getting all these calls for offers for you, and everyone’s crazy about your reunion with Aomine-chan! It’s a trending topic, Ryou! All the social media places and forums are talking about your _touching reunion_.”

Kise was sure he was fully red in the face. A complete tomato. His mouth was agape but he couldn’t say a word. He was _supposed_ to be used to being famous. He _thought_ he was used to it, but then there’s that thing about the drama and the trending and the thing he did and the _forums_. God, those forums were both a blessing and a curse—you don’t know what the hell you could find down there, what people _know_ and what they say about you—most of the time, Kise didn’t want to know, but it was his sister’s job to, so he hears about them anyway. He was at least thankful that his sister only told him the good parts, whether or not she was aware he knew that she did.

Behind Rika, Aomine snorted, stifling a laugh. Rika bounced in surprise, turning. “Wah! _Aomine-chan?_ I didn’t know you were there! Why are you here!” she was so excited, it practically radiated off of her face.

“I’m gonna—” Aomine grabbed Kise and pulled him away from Rika, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Steal your brother for a bit.” Kise jerked under Aomine’s arm, almost as if recoiling from the touch. Aomine raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing him. Weird.

Rika’s eyes started sparkling, but she blinked it away in favor of donning her protective sister face. “And where do you think you’re planning on going?”

“We’re gonna eat lunch,” Aomine stated, then glanced at Kise, who was still trying to process the news of his rise in popularity, and the arm around his shoulders. “Right, Kise?”

Kise blinked, shaking his head. “Y-yeah. Lunch! ‘Cause I’m free, right, nee-chan?”

He looked so hopeful and happy for the break that Rika’s expression softened into a tender smile. She had pushed forward that afternoon appointment fully intending to give Ryouta a break, and she was going to work all the way until that evening, so Aomine’s presence was a welcome one to her—at least Ryouta would have someone to spend his break with.

“Yep!” she agreed cheerily, smiling brightly. “It’s way too late for lunch though. But you deserve the break! Take the time to relax, Ryou.”

Kise lit up so visibly he seemed brighter than the lights in the hall. Aomine almost squinted at how _brilliant_ he was. “Yay! Thanks nee-chan.”

She smiled at him, then turned a stern face towards Aomine. “You take care of my brother, alright?” she said firmly.

Aomine’s eyebrows raised a fraction. “Yeah, sure.” He saw the same determined set to her eyes as he did in Kise’s, filled with so much care and love for her brother that Aomine felt like if he bottled it up and drank it, he’d live to a hundred years. It made him want to grab Kise’s head and keep it directed at her just so that he could see how much this woman cared for him, maybe even shield himself from her gaze because Aomine felt like he didn’t deserve to have it pointed at him.

Rika dug around in her pockets and tossed him a set of keys. Aomine caught them without flinching and shot her a questioning look. “You can drive right?” she said, grabbing her phone from her pocket next. “The car’s parked in basement five. You can use that.”

Aomine raised an eyebrow, but accepted. “Really, nee-chan?” Kise looked at her with such guileless wonder, Aomine saw a child. She smiled sweetly at him, nodding, then looked at Aomine again, stern. Aomine was amazed at how quickly her face could change.

“Don’t keep him out too late, okay?” she directed.

Aomine bit his cheek to keep him from spitting out a “what are you, his mom?” because she was close enough to a mom, and because she looked like the kind of woman you didn’t want to cross, _especially_ when it comes to her brother. So Aomine nodded instead. “Yessir,” he couldn’t resist saying.

Kise snorted, stifling his laugh. Rika slapped Aomine’s arm. “’ _Yessir_ ’ _,_ my butt,” she jeered, but she was smiling at him. Her phone started blinking and vibrating on her hand, so she reached out and started pushing Kise to the side. “You’re done for the day, Ryou,” she told him, taking a moment to smile up at him. “Now go before an appointment magically comes up to get you.”

Kise beamed, then ducked away from Aomine’s arm to give his sister a short, tight hug. She chirped happily, surprised for a moment, then returned the hug with a tight squeeze of her own. She gave him a soft push towards the elevator as it dinged open, then pressed a fist to Aomine’s lower back.

Aomine glanced over his shoulder at her, tipping his cap up. Their eyes met, and she gave a soft push with her fist as he stepped inside the elevator. Rika looked at them both and flashed a hundred megawatt smile. “Have fun on your date!” she waved.

“ _Nee-chan!_ ” Kise whined, and Aomine laughed.

 

# # # 

 

When they reached the car, Kise happily opened the passenger’s side of the door and jumped right in, looking for all the world like a kid about to go to an amusement park. Aomine slid next to him behind the wheel and stared at the overly cheery and bouncy Kise, feeling his own mouth curl up into a smile without much thought.

“What’s got you so happy?” Aomine asked, pulling on his seatbelt.

Kise beamed, excited. “I never get to ride in the passenger’s seat.”

Aomine almost wanted to pinch his cheeks. “Are you serious?”

Kise tried to pout, but he was too excited. Now Aomine wanted to pinch his nose. “What, I always get stuck in the backseat. I like how big the window is up front.”

Aomine wanted to say something to that, but couldn’t, sighing instead and leaning towards Kise. He reached across him, shoulders bumping, his arm grazing Kise’s chest, and felt Kise tense. Aomine vaguely registered how close they were, feeling Kise’s breath hitch against his jaw, and grabbed the handle of Kise’s seatbelt, pulling it across him as he moved back.

“Don’t forget your seatbelt then, brat,” Aomine said, fastening the seatbelt with a click. For a second Aomine saw Kise exhale, as if in relief, and for another second he wondered what was up, but when Kise pouted at him again he pushed the thought away.

“I could have done that myself, thank you,” Kise grumbled.

Aomine snorted at how childish he looked, mouth easily breaking into a smirk. “You totally forgot about it until I fastened it though.”

Kise’s cheeks were instantly dusted pink. “Shut up. I told you I rarely get to ride in the passenger’s seat.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it, princess,” Aomine jeered, sticking the key into the ignition. A pillow suddenly whacked him in the arm.

“What the heck—” Aomine turned to look at Kise, who clutched a pillow to his chest. Aomine was supposed to be frowning, supposed to be furrowing his brows, but he couldn’t help the upward curl of his lips at seeing the huge-ass _child_ sitting next to him. “Where’d you get that?”

“Backseat,” Kise answered simply, still excited and far too much in a good mood to keep pouting. He snickered. “I sleep a lot back there, so.”

For a moment Aomine just stared at him, then started chuckling. “You’re such a kid. I wonder why you have so many fans.”

“Obviously because of my good looks and charm,” Kise flicked his hair, sitting back comfortably.

Aomine snorted again, then raised his hands in defense when Kise threatened to smack him with the pillow again.

“Shut up,” Kise said.

“I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“You were going to say something mean, I could feel it.”

“Fine, whatever, I was going to compliment you, you know,” Aomine backed off, turning the engine on.

“Yeah, right.”

“Can’t a guy compliment his friend?” Aomine snickered, slowly driving the car towards the exit.

“Do you even know what a compliment is, Aominecchi.”

“Of course, I always make sure to compliment myself on a regular basis.”

“Oh my god,” Kise stuffed is face in his hands, trying to muffle the laugh that started bubbling out of his throat. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Hey, I know how to drive now, that’s new,” Aomine was grinning. It’s felt like the most times he’s smiled in weeks.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause _that’s_ amazing. Did you learn from one of those arcade racecar games?”

“Hey, those are pretty accurate.”

As if on cue, Aomine almost missed the turn up a ramp to the next floor, sharply curving the car and driving it up the slope with a lurch. Kise yelped, clutching the overhead grip handle, then settled down when the car leveled again. Kise’s eyes widened. “Aominecchi,” he started to say, serious. “ _Can_ you really dri—”

“Of course I can drive, you twat,” Aomine interrupted, glancing at Kise.

Kise actually sighed in relief, only barely reassured by Aomine’s confident movements. “You had me worried for a second there.”

“What do you take me for, an idiot?”

“Well—”

“Friendly reminder that I’m driving this car.”

“Of course not, Aominecchi!” Kise smiled brightly. “You’re a smart and talented young man with the _amazing_ ability to drive a car!”

“The way you said that pisses me off,” Aomine chided, frowning at him. Kise laughed, patting Aomine’s shoulder playfully. Aomine seemed to be unable to sustain any anger near Kise, so he just huffed, getting out of the basement and into the road outside, squinting at the bright light from the sun. Beside him, Kise made a noise of happy surprise, and Aomine took that chance to glance at him.

The afternoon sun loves Kise, that much Aomine was sure of. The light made his fair skin glow, made his blonde hair look like shining silk and made his eyes sparkle gold, like precious jewels. He looked like he fed off of the sun’s energy, radiating brightness and life like a flower blooming under the sunlight. Aomine almost rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back to the road as Kise basked in the warm light and hummed happily.

“Ah man it’s like I haven’t seen the sun in ages,” Kise said. “It feels like I just started the morning.”

“You were awake pretty early, now that you mention it,” Aomine was half-paying attention to the directions, finding that he knew where he wanted to go despite having been away for so long.

“I had to wake up at _three AM_. It was horrible.”

“Same as me then,” Aomine mused.

He could see Kise gape at him from the side. “ _Why?_ ”

“Goddamn jetlag,” Aomine grumbled, taking a right turn.

He heard Kise chuckle, the sound travelling straight to his chest and making him feel lighter. “Right. Jetlag’s a bitch,” Kise said.

“Damn right,” Aomine agreed, feeling Kise’s eyes on him.

“Where are we going, by the way?” Kise asked, still staring at Aomine.

“You’ll see.”

“I’m suspicious.”

“We’re gonna _eat_ , superstar. Aren’t you hungry?”

Kise blinked. Right, lunch. He hadn’t eaten lunch yet. And it was already way past noon and he’d just realized how empty his stomach felt. “I’m starving,” he announced. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet,” Aomine said, watching the road carefully. Kise was still staring. “Was waiting for you.”

“What? You could have at least grabbed a snack. I told you I’d be late.”

“I also said ‘let’s eat’, so we’re gonna eat together,” Aomine half-panicked when he almost missed a turn, and he squinted at a somewhat obscure street sign that he nearly overlooked.

Kise just stared at him, feeling a weird warmth in his chest. He watched the sun touch all the edges of Aomine’s face, defining his jaw and cheekbones with a gentle shadow that sharpened his features. His eyes reflected light like a deep blue ocean, like drops of night sky brought out in the day. Kise looked at the relaxed set of Aomine’s shoulders as his hands rested on the steering wheel, gaze trained on the road with a calm focus and an unmistakable maturity that felt knew to Kise.

“Why are you staring at me so much, it’s creepy,” Aomine muttered, eyes briefly flickering to look at Kise.

“Nothing, I just—” Kise tried to form words. “You look all grown up now.”

The eyebrow that Kise could see raised up, and Aomine spared a longer side glance at him. “Well, you too,” he said, looking back at the road. “Even though you look the same.”

Kise felt his cheeks warm a little, then tore his eyes away from Aomine’s profile, not quite sure why he was so rapt in the first place. “That doesn’t make sense,” he said.

“Yeah well, a lot of things don’t make sense, even when we’re older.”

“That was pretty deep, Aominecchi,” Kise smirked. “Never mind grown up, you sound like an old man.”

“Who’s driving this car again?”

“The most wonderful, youthful, profound basketball pro ever!”

“That’s better.”

 

[tbc]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments so far! You're all awesome. If anyone wants to chat or find me elsewhere, I'm also kittlekrattle over on tumblr so feel free to hit me up :)


	4. Been a While

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think we're surrounded."

“Okay, I take it back,” Kise sighed heavily. “You’re not grown up at all.”

“What? It’s just Maji Burger,” Aomine clicked his seatbelt loose, eyes sparkling as he gazed excitedly at the Maji Burger joint in front of them. “I haven’t been here in _ages_.”

Kise hadn’t either, couldn’t recall the last time he’d eaten a burger from there. Those days when he’d drop by just to grab a meal after school, maybe run into some friends, bicker and laugh and talk about the most random things—they all seemed so far away. Kise hadn’t been around the neighborhood at all recently, that neighborhood he spent most of his life in.

He heard a click, then felt leather slide against his chest. “I feel like you would have forgotten to unfasten your seatbelt, princess.” Aomine gently let the seatbelt move across Kise without snapping sharply.

“Shut up,” Kise retorted automatically. He tossed his pillow to the backseat and opened the glove compartment in front of him, pulling out a jacket and a beanie. He shrugged off the jacket he had on and pulled the spare one around his shoulders, zipping it up until the collar formed a turtleneck that reached his chin. He then pulled the beanie down over his head, tucking all his blonde hair inside.

“What are you…” Aomine started, fascinated by the sudden change. “Is that your celebrity disguise?”

“Kinda,” Kise nodded, looking at the mirror and making sure all his blonde hair had disappeared into the beanie.

“Seems like a hassle.” Aomine raised an eyebrow.

“Eh, it’s part of the job,” Kise said. “It’s kind of refreshing to _not_ get attention sometimes. And it’s pretty hard to deal with people trapping you in a mob.”

Aomine cocked his head slightly. He’s had his own share of experiences with fans, but not to the point that he’d need elaborate disguises just to hide his identity. Celebrities really had it differently. It was like their lives weren’t theirs anymore, like a constant show with the shortest of intermissions. Kise was really something, to be able to handle that; to just chuckle about constantly being watched, about getting ganged up on by countless adoring fans whenever he’s spotted. Aomine couldn’t help but think it was pretty amazing. “Like I said, seems like a hassle. Doesn’t seem like you get a lot of privacy.”

Kise was fishing for something at the deeper ends of the glove compartment, and glanced at Aomine. “Well, not really, I guess. Not in the recent years. I do get some time off and just…kinda…sleep. At home.”

Aomine made a face. “Just…sleep? Ever had a vacation?”

Kise thought about it. “Er, yes? Uh, when was the last time I…Oh! I was able to watch a movie once at home!”

Aomine looked disbelieving. “That’s not a vacation, Kise. Okay you can say that it’s one of those _staycation_ things but that’s like what—two hours? That’s the great grand total of your luxurious celebrity vacation?”

“Maybe a bit less than two hours, actually…” Kise mumbled.

“What?” Aomine leaned closer.

“I think I fell asleep before the movie ended,” Kise pondered seriously. His head shot up to look at Aomine with wide, dismayed eyes. “I didn’t get to finish the movie! Dammit, I _knew_ I was forgetting something!”

Aomine stared at him, incredulous. “Kise, you—”

“Aominecchi this is serious!” Kise almost looked panicked. “I didn’t get to finish the movie! I don’t know what happened to Kenshin after he charged the ship!”

Kise’s wide amber eyes were sparkling with a stubborn determination and urgency, framed by his thick lashes and completely standing out in the middle of all of Kise’s attempt to disguise himself. Aomine had the overwhelming urge to push his face away. “Kise,” Aomine said, serious. “Are you telling me you didn’t finish the second _Rurouni Kenshin_ movie?”

Kise looked even more distraught. “I didn’t! I fell asleep! I feel like a complete degenerate now, Jesus.”

Aomine looked him square in the eye. “Listen, Kenshin manages to get on the ship, then encounters Shi—blegh!”

“Aahh! Shut up shut up!” Kise yelled, smacking his hand over Aomine’s mouth. “No spoilers! I’ll finish the movie eventually!”

Aomine spluttered against Kise’s palm before swatting his hand away. “ _Kise_. I cannot _believe_ you haven’t watched the last _Rurouni Kenshin_ movie. Even _I’ve_ watched that!”

Kise put his hands over his face, wailing. “Ugh, _I know_. I can’t believe I _fell asleep_.”

For a moment Aomine’s jaw just stayed agape, processing the big shot celebrity sitting right next to him and seeing only the teenager that he’d played one-on-one with the most times in his life. “That’s it, get out of the car,” Aomine told him, opening the door. “We’ll get takeout then head straight to your place to finish the last two movies.” He jumped out of the car, straightened his cap, and started walking.

Kise just stared from his seat, not moving. Aomine noticed the lack of sound and turned to glare at Kise from outside. He stomped to Kise’s side of the car and shoved the door open. “Do I have to open the door for you too, princess?” he mused, expression a mix of annoyance and mocking. “Come _on_.” He grabbed Kise’s wrist and tugged him out of the car. Kise stumbled out into the open and clumsily shut the car door behind him.

It was a pretty awkward time to be eating out, not quite lunch time anymore and not that late for dinner, so there weren’t many people inside yet. The smell of fast food and homely warmth flittered straight through Kise’s nose and right to his heart. It hit him like a gust of air, coupled with nostalgia and the familiar broad back of Aomine walking in front of him. Kise moved to his side as they neared the counter, putting on a pair of glasses he’d brought out from his stash of disguises.

Aomine glanced at him. “Glasses?” he commented. The brilliant gold of Kise’s eyes were dulled by the thick lenses, his long eyelashes overpowered by the large frames. It was a pretty effective disguise, keeping all of Kise’s golden brightness muted under layers of covering, but Aomine didn’t particularly like it.

“I’m supposed to have a face mask too but you dragged me out before I could find it,” Kise said.

“Geez, do you really have to cover everything up?” Aomine grimaced.

“I can’t help it! Somehow people can recognize me way too easily!”

“Well, yeah, you’re a _model_ and an _actor_ , your face is your job,” Aomine muttered. Kise snorted. He watched Aomine look around just as he did, the same light of nostalgia in his eyes, then get complete tunnel vision once he spotted the menu boards up the counter. Aomine ordered eight teriyaki burgers without hesitation.

“Er, did you say _eight_ teriyaki burgers, sir?” the cashier asked, her smile faltering.

“Yep,” Aomine nodded. “Actually, make that ten, I’m hungry. To go, please.”

The cashier’s eyes widened, an edge of panic in them, then she smothered it with a wider smile. She poked some buttons on her screen. “Alright, ten teriyaki burgers to go. Is there…anything else?”

Aomine turned to look at Kise. “What d’you want?”

Kise was still in a state of half-culture shock and nostalgia, eyes still roaming all over the place and taking in the almost forgotten feeling of a place in the neighborhood he once called home. For a moment he just took in the sights, then barely even skimmed over the menu—he already knew what he wanted; remembered.

“One Maji Burger Set and one cheeseburger please!” Kise perked up, smiling.

The cashier promptly blushed, bearing the weight of the full force of Kise’s shining smile. Aomine squinted at the celebrity, then shoved him with an elbow and leaned in front of him, blocking the cashier’s view of Kise. “That’s all,” he smiled.

She blinked at him, her blush deepening, then realized she was in the middle of a job and frantically entered their orders. “S-so that’s ten teriyaki burgers, one Maji Burger Set, and one cheeseburger.” She gestured to the screen that showed their order and the price, and before Kise had the chance to put his card on the counter, Aomine dropped some bills.

“Oi Aominecchi, I could pay—” Kise started telling him, but Aomine dug his elbow into his side some more.

“And what, give out your identity?” Aomine hissed at him. “Wouldn’t want to take chances. Besides, consider this as me treating you.” He turned back to the cashier with a smile. “This should be enough.” It was a disarming smile, one that Kise wasn’t used to seeing, so he was more or less disarmed too, mouth clamping shut without a word.

The cashier was still blushing, eyes just very briefly flickering to Kise and doing a double-take. “Y-yes. Thank you! Please wait a moment.” She swiftly grabbed two neatly-wrapped medium-sized burgers from their stock, putting it on the tray by the counter and efficiently filling up a cup of soda. After setting it down, she filled a small box of fries and deposited everything in a paper bag. Kise was vaguely amazed at how fast she worked, and thought for the nth time that some things really don’t change. The cashier put a small plastic stand on the tray with the number five printed on it, and counted Aomine’s change as she handed it to him on top of the receipt.

“The teriyaki burgers will arrive in a few minutes,” she smiled. “Please have a seat while you wait.”

“Thanks,” Aomine smiled brightly, taking the tray as he shouldered Kise towards a booth near the back.

They sat across from each other with a huff, and as if on cue, Kise’s stomach did a feral growl. He groaned, flushing, and put two hands over his tummy. “Smelling the food made me hungrier.”

Aomine reached into their takeout and tossed one of Kise’s burgers at him. It bounced on his chest once before Kise moved to catch it in his hands. “Then eat.”

Kise’s stomach grumbled in response, a small affirmative noise, if stomachs could speak. Kise looked at Aomine, setting the burger on the tray with a small shake of his head. “I’ll wait ‘til your order comes.” As if in complaint, his stomach made another growling noise.

Aomine grunted, grabbing the burger, unwrapping it, then shoving it at Kise’s face in quick succession, making him splutter. “I’ve got ten burgers coming, so just go and eat while we’re not doing anything. It sounds like your stomach’s trying to communicate, for Christ’s sake.”

Kise flailed, involuntarily munching on the burger and grabbing it as Aomine released it. An explosion of the unhealthy, juicy fast food flavor erupted in his mouth, and it had been so long since Kise’s eaten a damn _burger_ that he was practically drooling in response. Kise made a pleased little sound, almost a moan, and took another, bigger bite, savoring the taste until he could practically feel the grip of happy tears in the corner of his eyes. He only managed to shoot a short glare at Aomine for forcing the food on him, coming out in a simple, childish pout that was full of stubborn gratitude, Aomine couldn’t suppress his smile.

“Been a while, huh?” he grinned. Kise flushed, still pouting, and averted his eyes, chewing gratefully. His stomach grumbled weakly.

“Your stomach seems to agree,” Aomine chuckled, grabbing some fries from the bag and popping it in his mouth.

“I haven’t had a proper burger in _forever_ ,” Kise gushed, eyes half-lidded in complete bliss over the most unhealthy meal he’s had in a very long time.

“You on some kind of diet or something?” Aomine mumbled, munching on Kise’s fries.

“Sort of,” Kise said, swallowing. “There’s some preparation and training needed for my role in that drama I’m in.”

“Training? Really?” Aomine was pretty sure all an actor needed to do was, well, _act_.

Kise nodded, cheeks stuffed with burger. He took a sip of his drink before replying. “A lot of upper body training. The character I’m portraying can’t move anything below his waist, so I have to be able to carry my weight, and then some. With just my arms. It was ridiculously hard at first, you have no idea.”

“Really,” Aomine said. He could do a bunch of pushups, sure, maybe bench his weight a couple of times, but not with just his _arms_. He was always the agile one, not the strong one, and most of his power was in his legs. Not being able to use his legs was a thought Aomine shuddered to even picture. “That’s pretty cool. We should arm wrestle sometime.” Aomine wasn’t even sure he’d win, not with the way Kise’s apparently been training, but he was more suited to be a challenger either way, and more than anything he enjoyed the thrill of not knowing whether he’d win or lose.

Kise’s eyes lit up, both in excitement and confidence. “Sure. I hope you’re ready to lose.”

Aomine’s lips curled into a smirk. “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.”

Kise smiled, pure happiness and energy practically glowing off of him. Aomine’s smile only widened. Kise’s joy was so infectious, Aomine found himself smiling more often than he normally would, as if Kise’s positive energy warded off any negative spirits that dared come close to him. It must be why he’s so good at being a famous celebrity, why everyone seems so captivated by him.

“Sorry for the wait! Here’s your order,” a voice piped up to the side.

Both of them looked to see a stuffed bag of burgers being set on their table by a server, and Kise saw Aomine visibly brighten with twinkling eyes as he thanked the server and immediately went to grab a burger. Kise chuckled when Aomine bit almost half the burger off in one bite, and heard a small gasp to one side. He glanced to see their server covering her mouth and staring straight at Kise with scrutinizing, hopeful eyes, and Kise’s blood immediately drained from his cheeks. He stuffed the burger in his face and hid behind it, acting as reserved and unruly as he could while receding further into his jacket. The server gingerly grabbed the table number stand from their tray and made a small bow before slowly stepping away, eyes flickering to Kise anxiously. She rushed to the back of the counter after a few steps and started whispering to the cashier, and Kise started sweating.

 _Did she recognize me?_ Kise’s heart started to pick up its pace. He turned his eyes towards Aomine in a bit of a panic, then was stopped short by the sight. Aomine was halfway through his first burger, and had unwrapped a second one in his other hand, cheeks stuffed with teriyaki burger, and face the picture of complete and utter _joy_. It must be hard to find _teriyaki burgers_ in America, and it might as well have been the first Aomine’s had in _years_. It’s always been his favorite, and without really thinking, Kise laughed.

“Jesus fucking Christ Kise,” Aomine breathed, eyes closed with pure bliss. “ _Kise_. This is the _best_. The. _Best_.”

Kise laughed harder, stuffing his mouth behind his hand in an effort to stifle it. Aomine was too blissed out to even get annoyed, only smiling with gigantic puffed out cheeks and looking like a complete slob, an overjoyed hamster.

“Here,” Kise said, picking up a French fry from his stack and lifting it up to Aomine. The basketball star swallowed half of what was in his mouth then leaned forward to eat Kise’s offering.

“Who’s the kid now?” Kise chuckled. Aomine huffed with his nose and just continued to chew, turning his head to the side. He noticed that more people had started entering the restaurant, a lot of them students with familiar uniforms. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was that time of the day when the students with no club started getting out of school, and started to worry. He finished his first burger then grabbed Kise’s drink.

“Lemme drink,” he said, immediately taking the straw between his lips and sipping.

“Wah—! Well I guess I had no choice, geez,” Kise sighed, trying not to think about how he just drank from there too.

“Finish that burger so that we could go,” Aomine directed, already chowing on the remainder of his second burger. “It’s getting late.”

Kise then noticed the growing number of people slowly filtering into the restaurant and around the neighborhood, and his pulse started to pick up again. He started stuffing his face with the burger then slurping at his drink, and heard Aomine mutter under his breath as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. Kise saw the familiar furrow of Aomine’s brows upon reading a new message he just received, then flinched when Aomine hissed, “ _Fuck._ ”

Suddenly Aomine was choking on his burger, and Kise panicked, shoving his drink at the idiot. Aomine grabbed it and gratefully drank, clearing his throat.

“What is it?” Kise asked when he was sure Aomine was breathing.

“It’s Satsuki, shit.” Aomine turned his phone to face Kise as he started gathering their stuff into his arms.su

Kise leaned forward to read it:

>> _I know you’re in Maji Burger_

Under the message was a picture, taken from the inside of Maji Burger, of Aomine with his mouth open for a French fry that Kise was about to feed him, with the caption: _“OMG Kise Ryouta with Aomine Daiki in Maji Burger!!?!”_

“ _Fuck_.” Kise stiffened, feeling all the blood drain from his face. He poked the attached link on the picture and saw that someone had taken a photo of them just _moments_ ago and posted it online. He slowly turned his eyes to the side and found a group of girls whispering among themselves just a few tables away, clutching their phones with excitement. Kise gradually tilted his head away and stuffed the last of his burger in his cheeks, pushing his glasses closer to his face and ducking his head lower.

“ _Act natural_ ,” he hissed at Aomine, grabbing his wrist. Aomine tensed, then lowered his cap with a small nod.

“I’ll cover you,” he told Kise quietly, smoothly standing up with Kise’s soda in hand. As Kise stood up to follow him, Aomine pushed the large bag of burgers to his chest. He leaned a bit closer. “Use this to cover yourself some.”

Kise nodded, lifting the bag with one arm to obscure the lower half of his face. Before moving, Aomine reached over and brought a hand to Kise’s forehead. Kise stopped himself from jerking back, flinching just slightly when Aomine’s fingers brushed his skin, as Aomine tucked back the stray locks of blonde hair that had apparently escaped his beanie. Aomine flashed him a smirk, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t mad about what was going on, and Kise smiled back.

They walked at a normal pace towards the exit, trying not to make it too obvious that they were escaping. Kise noticed the group of girls frantically whisper amongst themselves, glancing at the two of them every so often. There was another group of teenagers a few tables away, some of which looked up to stare directly at Kise.

Aomine stepped in front of him, nudging Kise’s hip with his fingers. Kise fell into step at Aomine’s heel, hidden from view behind him. It wasn’t often that Kise wasn’t one of the tallest people around, and even less that he could be covered by someone else. In the middle of the restaurant, towering high above the tables and chairs, they both stood out quite a bit, but Aomine’s presence counterbalanced Kise’s, at least diverting some attention away from him.

There was movement from outside the restaurant’s windows that caught Kise’s eye: some students hurrying toward Maji Burger armed with their camera phones and excited, searching eyes.

“I think we’re surrounded,” Kise whispered.

“We’ll find a way out,” Aomine half-whispered back, tugging his cap to shadow his eyes. “Just stay behind me.”

Kise nodded, turning to face Aomine’s back, feeling his cheeks warm. Maybe it was his clothes, but his back seemed so much broader than before, strong shoulders and firm muscles evident even under his shirt. Aomine always _did_ like to wear light clothing, always preferred comfortable shirts and pants so that he could play basketball whenever he felt like it. Kise could feel a muted energy rolling off of him, an air of power and confidence in everything from his build to the way he walked. His back was straighter, shoulders solidly set, and head no longer slouching with his torso like he used to. He was still the same boy that had hit Kise with a basketball when they first met, but this was a mature, grown-up Aomine. Kise was close enough to feel Aomine’s body heat radiating off of him, and felt his heart start to pound.

There was a clatter to one side of the restaurant—a student standing up from her seat. Kise could barely see past Aomine’s shoulders, only seeing nervous glances being thrown at them left and right. They were definitely suspicious, and the two of them only had the short time it took for the curious bystanders to muster up the courage to walk up to them, and it would only be a matter of time before others would find out, crowd, and everything gets spread all over the internet forums, then the news. With so many people involved, things could get messy and troublesome, and Aominecchi was with him so he’ll get dragged in and what if people find out about his injury which he’s supposed to keep under wraps and—

Without warning, Kise’s thoughts and steps were cut off when he suddenly collided with Aomine’s back. Aomine had completely stopped in his tracks and barely gave Kise time to ensure the safety of his burgers when he felt a light brush of fingers along his wrist, followed by a tug that steered him to turn a corner around a table. Kise staggered as Aomine’s hand gently pulled him in a different direction, and he almost spluttered when he felt Aomine’s hand slide just a bit lower, fingers resting to grip both lightly and firmly on Kise’s palm. It was steady but not forceful, and sent a kind of electricity coursing up his arm. Even amidst the sudden confusion, Kise’s one clear thought was that it was warm.

“A-Aominecchi,” Kise whispered. “What—”

“Detour,” Aomine said, sliding two fingers against Kise’s palm in a certain direction. Kise followed the hint and glanced to one side, finding a trio of high school girls nervously trying to approach them. They were in the way of the exit, with phones pressed close to their chests and timid gazes trained on the two of them. Kise turned his head away and readjusted the bag of burgers on his arm, letting himself get pulled along by the hand and just focusing on that. They reached a narrow corridor near the back of Maji Burger, and Aomine swiftly opened a door and pulled Kise inside.

It was the men’s bathroom. Once the door closed behind them, Aomine gave a small sigh, then turned to Kise. “Okay, not my best idea but at least we know they can’t follow us here.”

Kise was stuck, mind still processing what was going on and mostly just coming up with the fact that—

Aomine still hadn’t let go of his hand.

Kise must have been staring because Aomine pulled his hand away from Kise’s, almost too suddenly, but also not without a delayed, lingering touch. It might have been Kise’s imagination, or maybe Kise reflexively trying to keep their hands connected, but he couldn’t process much of it all as he watched Aomine bring his hand under his cap, taking it off as he ran his fingers through those dark blue locks. There was a light flush on his cheeks as Aomine averted his eyes for a second, then cleared his throat. He was about to say something when they heard someone talking from outside, voice muffled by the door.

“Ehh, they went into the men’s bathroom.”

“Are you _sure_ it’s them?”

“Like, eighty percent sure? I saw some blonde hair and really great skin and golden brown eyes—sort of? He’s wearing _glasses!_ And they’re both really tall and the other one’s tan and athletic and muscular so! It must be them!”

There were suppressed squeals of excitement right out the bathroom. Kise and Aomine looked at each other with wary expressions, both of them slowly inching further away from the door. They huddled close to whisper.

“So. Eighty percent, at least it’s not one hundred,” Aomine tried.

“No, that’s more or less one hundred,” Kise groaned. “How do we escape.”

Aomine started looking around the bathroom, wracking his brain. His eyes landed on the windows just above them. “You think we can fit through there?” he pointed up.

Kise followed his gaze, then furrowed his brows. “Er, I don’t know. Maybe? But it looks like it’ll be a tight fit. Besides, that’s pretty high up.”

“Lemme try,” Aomine said, rolling his sleeves up even further. He did a little hop, easily reaching the bottom of the windowsill, then tried pulling himself up.

“Wha— _Aominecchi_ what are you doing!” Kise hissed, tucking the bag of takeout snug with one arm and trying to support Aomine’s foot with the other.

“I’m gonna see if we can—”

“Er, e-excuse me, but what are you doing?”

Kise jumped, back hitting the wall, and Aomine jerked and fell off the windowsill, barely managing to land properly on the ground. Kise noticed the slightest of grunts escape Aomine’s gritted teeth, and Aomine immediately shifting his weight to his uninjured leg. Kise almost winced in sympathy.

At the entrance to the bathroom, a young boy with dark wavy hair and thick eyebrows stood, looking at Kise and Aomine like they were fugitives trying to escape—which wasn’t that far from the truth, given the situation. He wore a middle school uniform and carried a large jersey bag, and had come in so quietly that neither Kise nor Aomine noticed.

“Nothing,” Kise smiled nervously, pointing to Aomine. “This guy’s just an idiot so—”

Aomine smacked the back of his head, making Kise’s glasses go askew. “Shut up, I don’t see you offering any helpful ideas.”

Kise glared at him, pouting, his beanie messed up, blonde hair tumbling out softly from under it. Aomine had that urge to touch it again.

“U-um… _Kise_?” they heard a small voice say. “Kise Ryouta-san?”

The two of them turned to look at the teen anxiously standing by the door, and Kise grimaced. “Yeah.” He straightened up, realigning his glasses as he took off his beanie, letting his hair flow out and settle neatly around his face. “You know me?” He smiled at the boy, who wrung his fingers on the strap of his bag nervously, giving a short nod.

“Um, well uh,” he looked up at Kise, then his eyes slid over to Aomine, then back down on the tile. “I saw the show—the other day. Yesterday. My sister was watching it and um. Uh. I’m, well. I’m a fan of Takahiro Inoue-sensei’s. I like his books. Especially the um. The series that will come out. On TV. The one you’ll star in, K-Kise-san.” He was staring at the ground with a small edge of panic in his eyes, squeezing his bag strap every two seconds. Kise felt a smile tug at his lips.

“I’m a fan of the series too,” Kise said warmly, stepping closer. “What’s your name?”

The boy looked up, straight at Kise. He glanced at Aomine before looking back. “Mitobe. Mitobe Shinnosuke.”

Kise smiled. “Mitobe-kun,” he said. The teen looked startled to have been called by name. “You like basketball?”

Aomine looked at Kise, an eyebrow raised. Mitobe looked surprised. “Y-yeah,” he replied, nodding firmly. “I do.”

Kise’s smile grew wider. “Then let me introduce you to someone,” he said, reaching behind him to grab the hem of Aomine’s shirt. He gave a tug and Aomine followed, stepping forward confusedly. “This is Aomine Daiki.”

Aomine shot Kise a confused look, then turned to Mitobe, who was apparently looking straight at Aomine now, hie expression less timid and more awed, eyes sparkling with a strong gaze. Aomine blinked in mild surprise, almost taken aback.

“I know,” Mitobe nodded, his voice less quiet. “I’m—” he said, louder. “I’m a big fan!”

Aomine’s eyes widened, and beside him, Kise was grinning wide. Aomine was pretty sure that this Mitobe kid was a fan of _Kise’s_ , not his; but how did Kise pick up on that?

Kise elbowed his side. “O-oh,” Aomine nodded, regarding Mitobe more squarely. “Thanks.”

Mitobe lit up, looking happier by the second, and tightened his grip on his bag strap. “U-um, if it’s alright with you, c-can you—” he started unzipping his bag and rummaging through it. He pulled out a basketball from inside it and held it out in front of him. “Can you please sign this?” he blurt out, face turning pink as he bowed slightly.

Aomine’s eyebrows climbed up, his face openly surprised as he stared at the young teen who looked like it had taken a whole lot of effort to say that to him, eyes all panicked and blush reaching his ears as he held the basketball with firm hands.

Kise put a hand on Aomine’s back and pushed him forward.

“Sure,” Aomine said after a moment. Mitobe looked up at him in surprise, and Aomine could see the joy and hope flooding his eyes, and it made Aomine feel a warmth in his chest. He took the ball and turned it around in his palms a bit. It wasn’t new, but it was in fairly good shape, slightly worn with obvious indications of constantly being used. Now that he was closer, Aomine could see some calluses on Mitobe’s fingers and palm, and the unmistakable bulk in his jersey bag as he fished around for a marker. When he pulled it out, Aomine accepted it and uncapped it. Kise peered over his shoulder as he thought of what to write, and Aomine elbowed him to move back, getting a chuckle in response.

He glanced at Mitobe again, standing quite a bit shorter than him, but tall for a middle school student. He had long limbs and a lean build, looking up at Aomine with so much open admiration and respect that Aomine self-consciously looked away. He rested his wrist on the basketball, then started to write.

Kise was bouncing around behind his shoulders, trying to see what he was writing. Aomine elbowed him a couple of times to get the heck away, and handed the ball back to Mitobe before Kise could read anything. “Here.”

Mitobe gratefully accepted, reading what Aomine wrote above his signature, then looked back up at the basketball pro with eyes wide and sparkling with so much wonder and appreciation, Aomine found himself giving him a grin. Mitobe gave a big nod. “Thank you!” he said, bowing. When he straightened back up he looked like his dreams came true.

Aomine scratched the back of his head, then reached out to ruffle Mitobe’s hair. “Sure thing, kid.”

Kise smiled wide. “Oh I know!” he piped up. “I’ll take a picture of you two!”

He pulled out his phone as Aomine and Mitobe looked at him, the younger teen jerking in surprise and getting all fidgety with shyness. Aomine scratched the tip of his nose, then shrugged. “Sure, why not.” Then he glanced around. “In the bathroom though?”

Kise paused. “Right, let’s try escaping first, maybe.”

“You’re trying to escape…?” Mitobe glanced up at them.

“Er, yeah, kind of,” Kise smiled sheepishly.

“A-ah, well it _is_ on the internet…” Mitobe mumbled, averting his eyes meekly. “I can help you out.”

“Really?” Aomine and Kise looked at him hopefully.

“Y-yeah, one of the servers here is a relative of a friend,” Mitobe nodded, moving to the door. He opened it slightly and peeked out. “The girls outside moved away from here and went back to their tables, I think. They’re probably waiting for you two to come out. I know a way out back, through the kitchen. Do you have a car…?”

Both Aomine and Kise lit up, looking at each other then nodding. “Yeah. Could you show us the way?” Aomine asked him.

Mitobe nodded. “Sure. To be safe though—” he looked Aomine and Kise over. “I think you should switch some clothes with each other?”

They looked at him questioningly. Mitobe started to fidget again. “B-because the people who know you’re here know what you’re wearing, so they’re looking out for that, so if you change clothes—like your jacket and hats—and change your outfit just a little, you won’t immediately catch their attention or hold it, so—” his fingers were squeezing and fiddling around with his basketball.

“ _Ohh_ ,” Kise realized. “That’s pretty clever, Mitobe-kun. It’s like misdirection.”

Mitobe nodded, relieved. “Yeah.”

Kise looked to Aomine, who shrugged, then they both set down what they were carrying on the sink counter. Kise shrugged off his jacket and handed it to Aomine, and they both exchanged their hats. Aomine put on Kise’s jacket and found that it was a pretty good fit, just slightly short around the edges and tight around his shoulders. Aomine tried not to think too hard about how it smelled like Kise, bending over to roll his pants up a bit as Kise tried to contain his blonde hair under Aomine’s cap.

Mitobe was peeking out the door again when they both finished, looking at themselves in the mirror. They just switched clothes a little, but they could see a significant difference. Both their tops were a completely different color; Aomine’s tan skin was more covered up, Kise’s fair complexion looking lighter and more obvious after discarding his darker jacket, while Aomine’s cap cast a shadow over his eyes and glasses.

“I’ll carry your takeout,” Mitobe offered, moving to lift the ridiculous amount of burgers in one arm while balancing his basketball in the other.

“Then I’ll carry your bag,” Aomine said.  He bent down and easily lifted the jersey bag to sling over his shoulder before Mitobe could protest. Kise chuckled at the half-mortified expression on Mitobe’s face, taking his soda as he followed them to the door.

Mitobe stuck his head out of the door and looked around. “Okay,” he whispered, turning back to nod at them. Kise and Aomine nodded back. “Follow me.”

Mitobe silently slipped out of the bathroom and walked to the back of the corridor, Aomine and Kise right at his heels. They reached a small door that stood close to the counter, and Mitobe directed the two taller personalities to crouch behind some cabinets near the wall. Mitobe silently called out to one of the Maji Burger workers standing nearby, whispering to her and pointing to where Aomine and Kise were peeking from. She cocked her head with a confused expression at them, then Kise pulled off his glasses and lifted his cap, showing her his face while putting a finger to his lips with a wink. She promptly jerked in surprise, blushing, and started nodding fervently at Mitobe, who looked back at the two celebrity fugitives and flashed a thumbs up.

The two of them followed Mitobe and the server inside the kitchen door, and the smell of deep fried, oily, cholesterol goodness wafted through the warm air surrounding them. They walked briskly towards the back of the kitchen, their escorts waving off the curious and confused looks that were given to their small group, and reached the back exit. Both Mitobe and the server peered outside to check if everything was clear of any wandering fans, and after a few moments, they turned and smiled at Aomine and Kise, giving them the go ahead. The female server held the door open for them as Mitobe led the other two outside, and before exiting, Kise lightly brushed his fingers over her shoulders, tipping his cap up and flashing her a bright smile.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, making her blush even more. She nodded and smiled, and Kise liked that smile. It was a happy, thankful one; the kind of smile that made him proud to have been the cause of it.

They casually walked towards the parking lot, taking care not to draw attention to themselves. They reached a corner of the building and stopped behind Mitobe as he leaned over to check if the coast was clear.

“I think you’re good,” he nodded, turning back to them with a small smile. “Even if you’re spotted you can get in your car pretty quick.”

Kise and Aomine sighed, relieved. “Thank you, Mitobe-kun,” Kise said, patting him on the head. “You really helped us out.”

A small blush bloomed in Mitobe’s cheeks. “It’s no problem,” he said modestly, slowly offering the bag of takeout in his arm.

“Ah, right, before we leave, I’ll take your picture with Aominecchi!” Kise beamed, fishing out his phone in a flash. Mitobe got that overly flustered and embarrassed look again, opening his mouth to protest, but Aomine grinned and slung an arm around Mitobe’s shoulders.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Aomine said, ruffling the teen’s hair. “Out here’s better than the bathroom, at least.”

Mitobe sputtered, squirming under Aomine’s arm but looking happy all the same. Kise chuckled and pointed the camera at them. “Smile!” he said, and the two of them followed, the afternoon light looking as warm as their smiles. Kise looked at the picture and nodded, satisfied.

“U-um—”

He looked to see Mitobe fidgeting again, then turned to Kise. “C-could you—could you be in the picture too?”

Kise blinked at him. “Me?” Mitobe gave a small nod. Kise felt the honest smile curl up his lips. “Oh. Sure, Mitobe-kun.”

Mitobe lit up, smiling back, and smiled for a second picture in between Kise and Aomine. When Kise looked at the shot, he felt his chest warm at seeing how openly happy and grateful Mitobe looked, smile stretching out the widest and brightest he’s seen on the teen. He sent the pictures to Mitobe’s phone via infrared, and Mitobe bowed low again in gratitude.

“Thank you very much!” he told them.

Aomine smirked, reaching out to fluff Mitobe’s dark hair again. “We should be thanking you,” he said, pulling Mitobe’s bag off and handing it to him. Mitobe returned their takeout and stuffed his signed basketball in his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and immediately grasping the strap, tight.

“Thank you, Mitobe-kun,” Kise said, and both he and Aomine bowed slightly. Mitobe flushed, but smiled, nodding.

“You’re welcome,” the teen told them. “Take care.”

“You take care too,” Kise nodded. “And good luck getting into Seirin! You picked a good high school to go to. Do your best!”

Mitobe blinked in surprise, and Aomine looked at Kise with a similar expression, just more confused. After a moment Mitobe smiled warmly, nodding. “Thank you. I will.”

They waved at each other as they parted ways, and it was a short, mostly safe trip back to the car, both Kise and Aomine exhaling in relief when they sat inside.

“Well that was fun,” Kise said flatly, leaning back on his seat as he pulled off his glasses and Aomine’s cap. He was thankful that the car’s windows were tinted on the outside. “Took a bit of time, too.” The sky was turning orange as it neared dusk.

“How did you know that Mitobe was going to Seirin?” Aomine couldn’t help but ask curiously.

Kise gave him a sidelong glance. “Oh, that? I noticed a pamphlet when he was looking through his bag. There was also a magazine opened up to an article where I recognized Seirin’s basketball uniforms in one picture. I couldn’t really make out the details, but the colors and patterns were unmistakable. I think his jersey bag is from there too, except it’s old so it might be his big brother’s or something.”

Aomine was staring at him. “You noticed all that?”

“Huh?” Kise turned to look at Aomine, then averted his eyes sheepishly. “Oh, well. Yeah, I guess?”

“You’ve really gotten a lot more observant,” Aomine huffed, impressed. He stuck the key in the ignition and started up the car.

Kise was still grinning blushingly, letting out a shy laugh. “I guess so.”

Aomine’s stomach made a grumbling noise, cutting into the silence. He grimaced and Kise snickered. “Here, eat some of your burgers before you drive.” He pulled out two of Aomine’s burgers and handed it to him, and before Aomine could argue, his stomach made that noise again, and he relented.

They both ate in comfortable silence, watching the skies shift into a myriad of warm colors as the sun started to set. The golden light of the hour softly touched their skin and bathed the inside of the car with gentle sun, the purr of the car’s engine and the hum of the air conditioning encasing them in a private, homely space of their own. Everything in that small space of theirs was tranquil and warm, and Kise found himself relaxing into a state of peaceful happiness, the most calm he’s been in a while. He felt his past few weeks of nonstop, jam-packed work catch up to him then, and realized how tired he was—how tired he’s been—and how it was a really great change of pace for him to just sit there, on the passenger’s seat of a car, eating one of his favorite burgers while watching the sun set, all beside a friend he hasn’t seen in a long time. It was just a car—a company car, even—but beside Aomine, as the day slowly moved to dusk, with the smell of fast food saturating the air, it somehow felt like home.

Aomine finished another four burgers before stretching his arms up. “Alright, I’m good,” he said, shaking his wrists before setting his hands on the steering wheel. “Let’s go?”

Kise took a sip from his soda, emptying it. He nodded, smiling. “Yeah.”

“Seatbelt, princess,” Aomine reminded him, pulling on his own seatbelt. Kise flushed and strapped himself on with a pout, and Aomine gave a light laugh before slowly driving away from Maji Burger.

 

# # #

 

The sky had turned dark when the car reached one of the downtown roads of the city. Aomine thought for a moment before realizing that he had no idea where Kise’s place was, just the fact that it was somewhere in an upscale area of town.

“Hey Kise,” Aomine said, glancing to the side. “Where’s…”

He stopped, doing a double take. He looked to the passenger’s side and found that Kise had fallen asleep, head lolling to one side and breathing deep and even.

“Kise?” Aomine tried. There was no reply, no movement. He looked back at the road and decided to turn a familiar corner, pulling up to a stop at a sidewalk.

“Kise, hey,” Aomine said, putting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and shaking him gently. No reaction. Kise was completely down.

Aomine sighed, leaning over to peer at Kise’s face. He knew that the sun really suited Kise, but even the cool night blues touched his features in the softest ways, making him look like a sleeping star, a calm sun; like the reflection of a warm light against the waters of the night sea. His eyelashes fluttered like soft feathers on his cheeks, face relaxed into an expression of calm slumber, lips parted ever so slightly to let out quiet, even breaths. Aomine stopped, finding himself stuck where he was, just staring at Kise’s serene face and feeling like he was staring at the stretch of an endless ocean, cool and soothing, reflecting the gentle light of the moon and turning it into freckles of starlight in the waves; and Aomine was just at the shore, feet slowly taking him forward, feeling the pull of that ocean, the yearning to feel its cool touch and sink into it, get caught in its waves and just sink.

Aomine jerked back, mildly surprised and half confused. He had somehow leaned closer without realizing it, the hand he had laid on Kise’s shoulder suddenly resting on the side of his head, his jaw. He leaned back just slightly, catching himself, and brushed away the stray locks of blonde hair that had fallen over Kise’s eyes, tucking the longer ones behind his ear. He nudged Kise’s shoulder a little, trying again, and huffed when Kise didn’t react.

Aomine sighed, running a hand through his hair, and leaned back on the driver’s seat. He thought about what he was going to do, and gazed at Kise again, at that calm, sleeping face, and the only thing he was certain of was that he didn’t want to disturb such a peaceful sleep.

He sighed again, then realized that he was still wearing Kise’s jacket. He shrugged it off, lightly blanketing Kise with it, and stared at him for a few more seconds, grudgingly thinking that he really was in the presence of a goddamn princess. A sleeping beauty.

Aomine shook his head, grumbling out another heavy sigh, and started driving towards the only place he knew where to go, ignoring the odd, frantic drumming of his heart.

 

[tbc]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aomine with a sleeping Kise in the car, y/y?  
> kittlekrattle.tumblr.com


	5. Sleeping isn't Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thirsty?"

A soft, faint light caressed Kise’s cheek, brushing a gentle warmth over his skin. He let out a long breath, a completely satisfied, mellow exhale, and slowly opened his eyes.

He blinked a few times, eyes moving to focus on his dim surroundings. He shifted just slightly, against the mattress, burying the side of his head deeper into the pillow and relishing the comfortable warmth of a blanket lightly covering him. He closed his eyes for a moment, smiling, feeling like he’d just woken up from the best sleep he’d had in a long time, then snapped his eyes open again when he realized that he was _not_ in his room.

Kise sat up on his side and glanced around. It was morning, just barely twilight, the light of the day meekly seeping into the room. It was a smaller space than the one he lived in, the window just a little bit closer to the bed and the walls a shade darker. His heart started to drum at his chest, mind moving into quick action to try to recall when exactly he’d fallen asleep. He’d had a meeting in the morning, then a shoot in the same building, then Aominecchi picked him up to eat at Maji Burger when some fans found them out…Mitobe-kun had helped them escape, and they ate in the car…and then—

Kise wrinkled his nose, wracking his brain to rewind, to remember. Kise had finished his takeout— _that_ he was sure of. Aomine started driving shortly after, and Kise vaguely remembered watching the setting sun cast this _golden glow_ on Aomine’s face, and feeling so calmed and relaxed at the sight, at the warm presence beside him. He remembered the smell of sun-touched hair, short locks tickling his cheek; and a gentle but firm touch. He had leaned on a snug, steady press of heat at his front, felt the rise and fall of breathing against his chest, like soft waves. He’d felt steady hands at the back of his knees, and a soft brush of fingers at his hair. He remembered being wrapped in a blanket, atop a soft bed with a certain smell and warmth woven into the sheets, and a voice, deep and low, telling him with a warm laugh, “Goodnight, sleeping beauty.”

Kise didn’t know which parts of those memories were dreams, but he felt the heat rise to his cheeks nonetheless. He ran his hands down his face and tried to calm down, his train of thought stopping at Aomine—where _was_ he?

When Kise looked around the room, he didn’t spot any tall, navy blue-haired basketball pros. He started trying to get out of the bed when his blanket got stuck, just a little, and Kise glanced to find Aomine seated on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed and on a corner of the blanket.

Kise’s stomach did a flip. Aomine was just lounging there, legs sprawled in front of him with an ice pack resting on top of an ankle. His hands were limp at his lap, and his head was cocked ever so slightly to one side as he quietly slept. Kise was stuck, watching the steady rise and fall of Aomine’s shoulders and the light flutter of his eyelashes. He heard his pulse drum at his ears, and tried to put two and two together, noticing the black jacket loosely slung over a chair and the small bits of trash and clothes littering the floor. He must be in Aomine’s apartment, on Aomine’s bed, with Aomine sitting—and _sleeping_ —on the floor right next to it.

Kise took a moment to just…put his hands on his face and contemplate his existence.

After a few deep breaths, he steadied his pulse and tried to reign down the heat in his face. Kise smacked his cheeks with both palms and tried to squirm out of the blanket without rousing Aomine, but Aomine’s head had been resting on an edge of the blanket and the smallest movement tugged at it.

Kise froze, watching as Aomine’s head shifted, eyebrows scrunching. He grumbled, one arm absently reaching up to his hair, and blinked his eyes open.

Kise had half a mind to lie back down and pretend to sleep, but caught himself right as Aomine turned to look over at Kise. He blinked a few times, squinting at how the light was hitting Kise in the softest of ways, and lifted his eyebrows.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Aomine mumbled, his grumpy expression softening into a playful one.

Kise blinked at him. “G’morning,” he mumbled back.

“You finally awake, ya little shit?” Aomine’s face split into a lopsided grin as he heaved himself up, lifting the ice pack off of his leg. Kise watched Aomine stand by the side of the bed, still slow and dumbfounded because it was _morning_ which means he had spent the night in Aomine’s place just _sleeping_. Aomine reached out and ruffled Kise’s hair. “Your sister’s going to kill me, I’m sure.” Aomine grimaced.

Kise flailed under his hand, and Aomine gave a light chuckle. It was a pleasant sound, gentle and calm. “What happened?” Kise asked.

Aomine cocked his head, smirking. “You completely knocked out before I could ask you for your address,” he answered. “You were totally gone, like a damn rock. Wouldn’t wake up no matter what I did. I feel like if we’d crashed or something you _still_ wouldn’t have woken up.”

Kise grimaced, embarrassed. All that tiredness he’d accumulated must have really hit him hard the moment he relaxed. Guilt started to creep up to him when he realized that he had just been—and _is being—_ a huge burden to Aominecchi. Like a huge sack of potatoes that was dumped on him without warning.

“So I carried your huge ass up here and just let you have your beauty sleep. Be grateful.” Aomine fluffed Kise’s hair again, slightly frustrated that it could look so good and fall so neatly even after just waking up. He wanted to keep running his hand through that hair just to mess it up and stop making it look so damn flawless all the time.

He pulled his hand away and grudgingly watched as Kise’s tousled hair just flowed right back down like it couldn’t be bothered to look anything less than perfect. Aomine gave up and sighed, shifting to move away, when he caught sight of Kise’s face.

“ _Aominecchi_ ,” Kise whined, looking like the sorriest, guiltiest little thing that Aomine had seen. “ _I’m sorry!_ ” he bowed his head, hair flopping down with a jerk. His hands gripped the edge of Aomine’s blankets in tight fists, and his ears were pink.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, you doof,” Aomine sighed, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “You’re not really that heavy and you crashed so hard, it felt like I’d be doing something cruel if I woke you up. How much sleep are you even getting, geez.”

Kise looked back up at him with eyes filled to the brim with guilt, but sparkling with gratitude. Aomine wanted to smack a hand over his face with how conscious Kise was making him.

“Did you sleep on the _floor?_ ” Kise practically cried.

“What? _No_. I woke up way too damn early again so I did like two hundred pushups and iced my ankle after,” Aomine waved his hand. “Then I somehow fell asleep.”

Kise looked relieved. “Okay,” he sighed. Then got confused. “So where _did_ you sleep last night?”

Aomine raised an eyebrow. “On the bed, duh. Where else will I sleep?”

Kise squinted so hard his whole face was scrunched up. The bed _was_ pretty big, could fit two people at least, but that wasn’t the point. “So we shared the bed.”

“What, did you expect me to let you sleep on the goddamn _floor_?” Aomine frowned at him. He knew he wasn’t the nicest guy around but he wasn’t fucking _evil_.

Kise sputtered into his hand, sighing in defeat. Okay. So that happened. Okay. He pulled his gaze back onto Aomine. “Okay no, sorry. Thank you, Aominecchi. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, geez,” Aomine scratched the back of his neck. “Just make sure your sister doesn’t murder me and we’ll call it even.”

Kise couldn’t help the bubbling laughter that escaped his mouth. “She won’t, she won’t. I’ll explain to her,” he sighed again, still feeling the remnants of guilt clinging at him, but otherwise feeling warm. The fluffy feeling only lasted for a few seconds before a thought hit him and his blood immediately ran cold. “Wait—what time is it?”

He snapped his head around to look for a clock, and Aomine shot him a questioning look before stepping aside to turn to a bedside desk behind him where the clock stood. Kise’s eyes zoned in on the numbers immediately, when Aomine’s cell rang and he cursed. After a beat, Aomine groaned and put the phone to his ear and braced himself.

“Satsuki,” he sighed, then immediately furrowed his brows. “Yes, I’m awake. _What_ , I didn’t know if _you were_ too why would I call you at six fucking AM—okay _okay_ we’ll fucking talk about the damn off—what? Huh, what? _What?_ ”

When Kise had processed the numbers on the clock he immediately sprung up from the bed like he had been ejected from it, panic and urgency starting to overtake his brain. He looked himself over and found that he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, but his phones weren’t in his pockets. He scanned the room and spotted them by the same chair Aomine’s team jacket was on, next to his wallet. Before he could grab them, though, Aomine grabbed the back of his collar, causing Kise to get yanked back with a yelp in a sudden recoil.

“ _Geh!_ ” Kise stumbled backwards, immediately trying to look over his shoulder to glare at Aomine.

“Alright, _alright, alright,_ I got it! Yes, _yes_ , Jesus fucking Christ calm your tits woman I said I got it!” Aomine had his eyes shut tight in an obvious effort at trying to keep himself from blowing a fuse, body so solid that his arm barely budged when Kise tried to escape his grasp. “ _Yes_ , _okay,_ I know. _I’ll do it. Goodbye._ ” He ended the call with an aggressive tap, and glared at the phone as if it had wronged him. Aomine let out an exasperated, long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, then turned to look at Kise, who half-hung under his hand with a pout.

“Go take a shower,” he instructed, releasing Kise’s collar.

“I have an appointment—”

“At a studio,” Aomine finished. “I know. Satsuki just told me. You still have some time so take a quick shower first. I’ll drive you there.”

Kise stared at him. “I can drive myself—”

“Hey, no,” Aomine snapped. “ _I’m_ driving you, superstar. I already told Satsuki I would.”

“No no no,” Kise blurt. “I’ve already troubled you enough—”

“Oh for the love of god, _Kise,_ ” Aomine smacked a hand on the blonde’s head, anchoring him where he stood. “You didn’t fucking _‘trouble me’,_ or anything stupid like that. I was the one who dragged you out to Maji Burger, alright? And you fell asleep because you were tired and lacked sleep. Don’t make it seem like sleeping is a bad thing, goddammit. _I like sleep._ Sleeping _isn’t wrong_.”

“But—”

“Sleeping. Isn’t. Wrong. I will _fight_ you.”

Kise gaped at him dumbly. Aomine had that urge to pinch his cheeks again, then ruffled the model’s hair. “Now take your goddamn shower.” He shoved Kise in the general direction of the bathroom, and Kise stumbled with a yelp.

“Okay, _okay_ ,” Kise whined, flailing in defeat. He threw a pouty look over his shoulder at Aomine, who raised a fist in a threat, and Kise huffed and trudged to the shower.

He took a cold bath to pull him out of his disgruntled thoughts and cool his blood down. In the middle of shampooing his hair with the lone bottle of shampoo Aominecchi had—Kise ignored the brand on purpose—he started reviewing the things he had lined up for the day and mentally prepared himself for the crunch. He finished showering in what felt like record time, and right as he began to towel his hair off, he realized that he had no clothes to change into.

Kise’s brain started going into full throttle, trying to come up with a solution, when he heard a door from somewhere in the apartment close. No sooner did he hear Aomine call out to him.

“Hey, I’m going in.”

Kise was glad he still had his fast reflexes when he instantly wrapped the towel around his waist, just as Aomine pushed open the door. He paused when he saw Kise, eyes quickly processing the sight, and looked much like he made a very conscious effort to make very direct eye contact with Kise. “Oh, you’re done? That was fast.”

Kise managed a small nod, and pulled his lips into a wonky smile. “Yeah, gotta rush. Gonna be late.” He tried not to think about the fact that he was more or less standing naked just three feet from Aomine.

“Relax, I said I’ll be driving you,” Aomine waved his hand, stretching his arm out to offer Kise a small plastic bag. “I got your spare clothes from your car,” he said. “There wasn’t a shirt though so I’ll loan you one of mine.”

Kise accepted the bag. “Oh, thanks.”

Aomine jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Go change in the room,” he directed. “Let me shower real quick. The shirts are on the bed so just pick whichever.”

Kise nodded, looking everywhere but Aomine’s eyes. “Alright. Thank you.” Aomine stepped aside and let Kise out, neither of them looking at each other. Kise scrambled to the bedroom and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, then ran a hand through his hair. On the edge of the bed was a small pile of shirts and jackets, strewn all over the place as if they’d just been dumped out of a bag, which they probably were. Kise mentally thanked himself for always keeping spare underwear in his designated car, and slipped them on along with his pants. He plucked out a random dark shirt from Aomine’s pile and slid it over his head, not surprised that it was almost a perfect fit—he and Aomine always _did_ have a similar build, with almost the same height; and they’d accidentally switched clothes back in Teiko more times than they can remember, it wouldn’t be surprising to find one or two of Aomine’s shirts in Kise’s drawers, and vice versa. It was just a little bit loose, but otherwise comfortable. Kise couldn’t help but notice that the shirt smelled like Aominecchi.

He was just about to walk out into the living room when Aomine stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and a towel around his shoulders. Kise nearly tripped on his toes but managed to catch himself, spinning on his heel in what he hoped was a graceful manner before he would give away that he’d been staring.

“Want a drink or something?” he heard Aomine say behind him.

“Just water, please,” Kise replied, cautiously heading to where he remembered the kitchen was. He hadn’t noticed how dry his throat had been.

Aomine grabbed two glasses and swiftly poured them both some water. Kise mumbled a thanks as he downed the glass with large swigs, almost choking on his last gulp when he’d caught sight of Aomine’s throat bobbing as he drank, the built muscle right under it more defined and bulked up than Kise remembered. Aomine set his glass down and noticed Kise looking, and Kise’s throat ran dry all over again when Aomine’s lips curled into a knowing, smug-ass grin.

“Thirsty?” he sneered, haughty.

Kise narrowed his eyes, then flicked his head, nose upturned. “Get dressed and let’s go.”

As he stomped around Aomine to refill his glass, he couldn’t suppress the stupid smirk and flush that crept up his face while Aomine’s laugh faded into his bedroom.

 

# # #

 

Aomine was beginning to wonder if Kise had something against seatbelts, considering how he completely forgot the existence of the one he was supposed to use again. When Aomine reached over and fastened it for him, Kise did that thing where he stiffened against him, only relaxing with some effort after Aomine pulled back. It was only when Aomine started driving and Kise held on to his seatbelt for dear life that he decided it wasn’t the case—then again, maybe Kise made a special exception when Aomine stomped on the gas.

They made it to the studio just a few minutes early, and Aomine shot Kise a self-satisfied smirk that Kise threw his pillow at after he’d peeled himself off of the leather of his seat. Aomine laughed at him and clicked Kise’s seatbelt open when he almost tried to leave without doing so, and just barely caught the beanie that came flying at his face when he started to laugh again.

They stepped out of the car Aomine had pulled up at the entrance to a huge studio. Both of them immediately noticed Rika standing right out the doors beside a taller man with ashen hair who had his back turned to them, talking on the phone. When Rika spotted them, it was as if a fire had been lit, and Aomine braced himself as she yelled, “ _Ryoutaa!_ ” and started stomping towards them like a blazing comet.

Kise immediately threw himself in front of Aomine and in the line of fire. “Nee-chan!” he greeted, a bright, disarming smile lighting up his face.

“Ryouta!” she let out a huff. “Thank god you’re on time.”

“Of course! It’s because Aominecchi drove me here.” _Like the devil_ , Kise finished in his head.

Rika’s hand reached around Kise in a flash, smacking Aomine upside the arm.

“You little doop you could have _told me_ that Ryou was going to stay over at your place,” Rika snapped at him, round eyes looking up so strongly and determinedly. Aomine almost flinched back from her gaze, really seeing how much the Kise siblings resembled each other.

Kise flapped into his sister’s way again. “Rika-nee it’s not Aominecchi’s fault! I fell asleep in the car!”

Rika huffed at Kise, calming down just by seeing his face. “Like a _rock_ ,” Kise added, letting some of his guilt show. Rika blinked up at him and sighed.

“Augh, sorry Ryouta,” she groaned. “You’ve really been working so much the past few weeks I know I should have tried to kick something off to give you a break but—”

“It’s okay, it’s alright!” Kise flailed, waving his hands. “I’m okay with the workload, really. It’s been hectic but it’s okay! It’s great!”

She pouted at him, then bent to peek at Aomine. “Does that mean you carried Ryouta up to your place?”

Kise stepped aside to let Aomine answer. “Yeah?”

Rika put a hand on her face, sighing. “Oh geez, sorry about that. Ryou could turn into literal deadweight when that happens.”

Aomine raised an eyebrow. So it’s happened before. “It’s no big deal,” he reassured. “He’s not that heavy.”

It was Kise’s turn to pout at him then, and Aomine noticed the man behind Rika finish his call and walk towards them. When he stepped out into the open, Aomine’s eyes widened in recognition.

“I take just _two_ days off and you manage to get into a mess,” the man sneered. “Really, Ryouta?”

Kise’s pout just deepened, and he huffed with a shrug. “Shut up. I was on break.”

When the man neared, his grin was wide with amusement and a speck of fondness. Aomine’s eyebrows kept climbing higher, and the man snickered at Kise right before their eyes met.

“ _Haizaki?_ ” Aomine spat, incredulous.

“Yo,” Haizaki greeted, eyes lighting up in recognition, a corner of his lips quirking up in that crooked grin of his. “Long time no see, Daiki.”

Aomine blinked, open surprise on his face. Haizaki stood just about as tall as him, his hair back to its light gray color, trimmed a bit shorter and tamed back some. He wore a pale blue button down tucked into pleated pants, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows like a small rebellion against dressing formally.

Rika looked back and forth between Aomine and Haizaki, and Kise was pouting but his mouth started curling up into a smile. “Oh, have you met?” Rika asked, eyebrow raised.

Aomine’s brows knotted together. “What are you doing here?” he blurt out.

Haizaki’s smile widened into a cheeky grin, as if he was about to reveal the secret of a magic trick, or announce that he’d just succeeded in robbing a bank. Kise shrugged beside Aomine, nonchalant, and nodded at Haizaki.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Basketball Superstar.” Haizaki stuck out his hand playfully, the smile reaching his eyes as they twinkled with delight. To the side, Kise chuckled lightly. “I’m Ryouta’s bodyguard.”

 

[tbc]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  
> kittlekrattle.tumblr.com


	6. People Grow Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Children, please stop fighting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly late update oops. But here's a pretty long chapter for you all! Might be delayed for the next one though, but rest assured, things will be picking up and the sexual tension is only going to get worse :) Thanks for all the kudos and comments so far! You all really know how to motivate a writer ♥︎

“ _How?_ ” Aomine didn’t bother to hide the open incredulity on his face.

“It’s a long story.” Haizaki shrugged, watching the Kise siblings chattering in front of them. Aomine followed his gaze and stared at Kise’s profile, all light and happy and awake. Compared to the previous night and earlier that morning, it was as if Kise was a sunrise. He had been sleeping so softly and peacefully that Aomine didn’t—couldn’t—wake him up, and he was a warmth on the side of his bed that had given Aomine an odd feeling of contentment; like it wasn’t out of place at all that Kise was sleeping on his bed. Aomine had slept with his back to Kise, and at one point had felt their backs hit; and it was warm. The kind of warmth that calmed Aomine just as much as it surprised him, and Kise’s breathing was like a gentle wind lulling him to sleep. It was a calm sleep, knowing that Kise was right behind him, and even though jetlag forced him awake far too early again, the sight of Kise right next to him somehow washed away the urge to get pissed at stupid jetlag and damned early mornings. It was as if watching the calm princess of a celebrity slumbering like a sleeping sun made waking up less infuriating—and Aomine didn’t quite get why.

Now, on an elevator up a talent agency, music production, and various-other-functions-Aomine-didn’t-bother-to-remember building, Kise was bright and smiling and made it feel like you’d consider the sun to be up only when he was too. Aomine wanted to fucking wear _sunglasses_ and felt that it would be a completely justified action.

The elevator dinged open and Rika stepped out before Kise, Haizaki following close after. Aomine looked back to the gray-haired former-delinquent that Aomine used to know him as, falling into step beside him, and went back into disbelief.

“Okay, but _how_ ,” Aomine pressed, still not sure he could believe Haizaki’s job.

“I said it’s a long story,” Haizaki grumbled. “Is it so hard to believe, sheesh.”

“Yes,” Aomine answered immediately. “Tell me, I’ve got time.”

Haizaki smirked at him, amused. “You’re not stalling out of your shit with Momoi, Daiki,” he grinned. “She’s like five minutes away from getting here so there’s no escaping.”

Aomine’s face twisted into a disapproving grimace. “You traitor.”

Haizaki barked out a laugh, stuffing his hands in his pockets and grinning impishly at Aomine. “I ain’t loyal to you.”

“But you are to Kise?” Aomine asked, squaring his shoulders with a huff.

“Yep,” Haizaki said without pause, looking ahead to where Kise and Rika were entering a studio, the older of the siblings bowing as she introduced themselves. Kise bowed after her while those inside greeted them happily, and Kise was smiling his celebrity smile.

Aomine gaped at Haizaki. “You sure you’re Haizaki? Haizaki Shougo? I was pretty sure you were an asshole. _Especially_ to Kise.”

Haizaki immediately frowned, glaring at Aomine. “Says the fuckin’ asshole, asshole,” he snarled.

“Okay, yep, there you are,” Aomine scoffed. “Really, I’m curious. What the heck happened? You were a total _douche_.”

Haizaki grumbled at him, then ran a hand through his hair. “Well people grow up, jackass,” he scowled. “A certain someone literally beat some sense in me, and I don’t know, fuckin’ hit my head down a notch or two. Figured I had to grow out of the fucking punk phase _some_ day, and if I had to set things straight, I’d start with Ryouta.” The two of them followed into the studio, moving to stay in the shadows of the sidelines. Haizaki nodded to the few who knew and greeted him, and Kise was ushered into a changing room.

“Not that I expected anything,” Haizaki continued, getting a small spark of fondness in his eyes as he reminisced. “But I had to try.  It took way too fucking long but eventually we started being able to just _talk_. I didn’t think at all that I’d get a chance, and screwed up a couple of times and more or less fucked up by the end, but—” Haizaki brought his eyes up, seeing Kise come out of the changing room with light clothes that made him look like the brightest star around. “He did. He gave me a chance. I was pretty sure I’d turn into some punk ass trash with no future, but then he offered me this job.”

“Kise did?” Aomine’s eyes were wide with awe and skepticism as he glanced at Haizaki, who was just looking ahead, at Kise, who started posing for the shoot. Aomine followed his gaze and watched Kise putting on a calm, cool face, and Aomine couldn’t help but stare.

“Yep,” Haizaki replied. “I couldn’t actually believe it at first, but he was serious and so I’m here. Been at it for almost four years now.”

Aomine tore his eyes away from Kise to stare at Haizaki in surprise. “Four years? Wow.”

Haizaki’s lips curled up into a smile. “Yeah,” he said pensively, looking calm and content.

Aomine huffed, turning his head to look back at the shoot. The photographer was talking to Kise, and a stylist was powdering his face. He chuckled at something and nodded, standing up and closing his eyes. After a beat, he opened them again, face turning into a serious expression, tilting his head down in a way that made him look up through his lashes, and his eyes looked like a golden fire just barely held back behind his irises. The cameras flashed, and he angled his head in a few different directions, moving into different poses as picture after picture was taken.

“What does a celebrity bodyguard even do,” Aomine tried.

“You’d actually be surprised how dangerous it is to be a fuckin’ celebrity,” Haizaki scoffed, snorting. “People get so damn close it’s sometimes suffocating; they try to touch and grab whatever they can reach—and you have no idea if they’re holding some hazardous objects or weapons, and those definitely shouldn’t get close to him.” Haizaki grimaced. “Sometimes there are douchebags who try to steal stuff like his buttons, or scraps of his clothes— _his hair_. Jesus fucking Christ people always try pull out his goddamn hair and they’re fucking crazy bastards.”

Aomine pulled on a face, scrunched up like hew as just forced to lick someone’s foot. “You kidding me? What the fuck.”

“ _I’m serious_ ,” Haizaki groaned, wearing a similar expression. “If I didn’t have my throat to worry about with Rika I’d have fuckin’ broken more noses than I can count.” Haizaki raised a fist with a frustrated expression, like he could clearly remember each person he wanted to punch for trying to grab at Kise. “And sometimes there are real douchebags—the haters and goddamn spiteful bastards—those are the biggest fuckers around. They try to throw dangerous shit and try to fuckin’ _attack_ Ryouta and—” he seethed at remembering, letting out a low growl. “I swear to god if it weren’t for Ryouta I’d have beaten those sorry piece of shit fuckers to a fucking bloody pulp.”

Aomine felt Haizaki’s anger roll out of him like steam, and it was an infectious thing, making Aomine start to bristle with his own fury, a heat of protectiveness. “ _What the fuck_?” he growled. “There are assholes like that? _The fuck is wrong with them_?” He couldn’t understand for the life of him why people would try to attack _Kise_ of all people, and felt his own fists clench at his sides at the thought, looking at Kise and seeing only someone that should be protected, just as much as he didn’t need to or should _have_ to be.

Haizaki let out a grumbling sigh, calming himself. He ran a hand through his hair roughly. “The world’s full of scum, that’s what’s wrong.”

“How often does that even happen?”

Haizaki exhaled through his nose, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “When Ryouta was getting more famous, those bastards started popping up at the red carpet stuff, the events and appearances. First it was just some violent crazies, and then some with fucking _knives—_ ”

“What the hell?” Aomine started to mirror the rage that Haizaki had boiling.

“I didn’t let a single one of them get near him,” Haizaki spat. “Got into a damn fight with Ryouta when I knocked a couple of ‘em out before, too.”

“What, are you saying that Kise got _mad_ at you for hitting them?” Aomine’s brows knotted. Kise was a decent guy, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d just stand for people trying to _attack him_. He _was_ a good person, but definitely not an angel. Then again, being famous had its limitations, Aomine supposed.

“Yeah,” Haizaki nodded. “But okay, I might have beat them up too much, but _still_.” Haizaki frowned with a grumble, then tilted his head in thought. “The attacks didn’t happen that often after I beat them up, but it was when Kise snapped that they more or less stopped.”

“Snapped?” Aomine’s simmering anger slowed, and he raised a brow. “What happened?”

Haizaki glanced at him, a corner of his lips quirking up in a proud sneer. “One guy was trash talking Kise after this one event, and I was already threatening the little shit but Ryouta was brushing it off, telling me to just ignore him.” Haizaki’s smirk widened, looking like a proud wolf after his cub’s first kill. “Then the bastard started trash talking _Rika_ , got a bit close even, almost grabbed her arm.” He looked back to Kise, who was laughing with something the employees were talking about with him. “And Ryouta stepped in front of her, put his arm on the bastard’s shoulder, and _smiled_ —” Haizaki scoffed, an evil grin stretching across his face. “It was the most terrifying fucking smile you’d ever see on that model’s face, mind you—and then he told the guy that he could trash talk him all he wanted, but it was a different story if it was Rika. Then he told the fucker to get his stupid ugly mug the hell away and socked the guy right in the jaw.”

Aomine gaped at Haizaki, eyes wide and jaw ajar. Haizaki snickered a fond, proud laugh. “Kise completely went out of character and the guy was bleeding with his ass on the ground faster than anyone could really process. The fuckin’ paparazzi _exploded_ and everything was just blinding-ass camera flash and it went fucking _viral_.”

Aomine’s eyes only widened, but this time his lips started curling up. “He _punched_ a guy in front of the _paparazzi?_ ”

Haizaki grinned at him, proud. “Yep.” he puffed up his chest. “You’d think it’d destroy his image but _no_ —Ryouta fucking _gained fans_. _Male fans_ , even. One moment he’s the damn golden prince charming everyone knew and loved, then the next moment he’s this bad boy badass that really just _clicked_ with everyone. He was suddenly a true Gemini character who’s more than just a pretty face. He was, I dunno, _deeper_ now. He got _respect_.”

Aomine found himself grinning wide, sniggering in both disbelief and wonder. All the sudden anger that had risen up in him was washed over with a wave of contentment and pride. _That’s the Kise I know_. The words flew through his head easily, and died in his mouth when he looked back to the model, who’d put on at least a couple of different expressions for the shoot, while Aomine counted at least a dozen faces he donned that were unmistakably _Kise_ but also not.

“So now I mostly just keep people from getting uncomfortably close, carry stuff, drive him around, hold up an umbrella over his head, shit like that,” Haizaki shrugged. “Sometimes I have to wake him up if Rika can’t, call people here and there, arrange meetings and appointments and shit—”

“Is that still a _bodyguard_ ’s job?” Aomine raised a brow.

“He’s more like an assistant manager now, actually.”

They turned to Rika, who had suddenly popped up beside them. She smiled, all sunshine. “I get Shougo to do a bunch of stuff that leans towards manager-work now.”

Aomine whistled. “Well whaddya know, Haizaki’s all _responsible_ now. All grown up.”

Haizaki scowled, raising a brow in threat. He opened his mouth to speak but caught sight of something to one side, then shrugged. Within three seconds, a loud whisper, like the hiss of an angry snake, called to Aomine.

“ _Dai-chan!_ ”

Aomine startled, and received a smack to the arm. He grimaced and looked down at Momoi, who had the biggest angry pout pointed right at him.

She punched his arm once then turned to Rika, bowing. “Rika-chan, I’m so sorry!” she tilted her head to the side and shot Aomine a glare, grabbing his shirt and tugging hard. “Apologize too, you idiot!” she hissed at him.

“Ah.” he said dumbly, then bowed his head at Rika awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Rika flailed, flustered. “It’s okay! Really, Momoi-chan. Aomine-chan took care of Ryouta. He also caused Aomine some trouble.”

Momoi straightened up with a sad pout, eyes sparkling. Rika smiled sweetly at her and reached over to smack Aomine on his other arm.

“What the heck—”

“You apologize to Momoi-chan though, Aomine!” Rika scolded him. “For avoiding her yesterday.”

Aomine sighed. “I know, I already agreed to going to that darn meeting with her.” He scratched the back of his neck, then looked at Momoi. “But…sorry.”

Momoi’s pout couldn’t hold, slowly breaking into a smile, and it was the kind of smile that made the world feel like a bright and happy place. Rika puffed out her chest, pleased, and gave Aomine’s arm a solid pat before excusing herself to get to work. Aomine sighed in defeat.

“Okay Dai-chan!” she perked up. “Good job taking care of Ki-chan! It would have been bad if you were both crowded around by a mob. Besides,” she poked his arm. “If you wanted to go out with him, you could have just told me!”

“Yeah, yeah, my bad,” Aomine waved his wrist. “I’ll tell you next time, mom.”

Momoi’s brows knotted, and she puffed her cheeks like a stubborn child, squeezing her shoulders up. With a huff, she punched Aomine’s arm again. “Shut up.”

He smirked, rubbing the side of his arm, and chuckled when Momoi crossed her arms over her chest. She stuck her tongue out at him and flicked her hair, and just then noticed Haizaki sniggering to one side.

“Ah! Haizaki-kun, thank you for helping out!” she smiled brightly at him.

Haizaki looked away. “It’s nothing.”

Momoi giggled, then turned to Aomine. “Alright Dai-chan! Kisaragi-san will be waiting! He’s in the building next door so we can come back here later if you want. I heard the cafeteria here is pretty and serves some good food!”

Aomine sighed, looking at Momoi’s shining round eyes and resigning to his fate. He slumped for a moment, then inhaled sharply, letting out a determined exhale as he squared his shoulders. Haizaki was vaguely surprised to see that Aomine didn’t slump down like he expected him to, like how Aomine would have usually, or at least back when he was still a slob of a teenager. Now he seemed bigger, broader, exuding a strong air much like his old middle school self, but this time greater and more sharpened, more pronounced. He seemed _taller_ , even if their heights were practically the same, and Haizaki somehow felt reassured, watching as Aomine raised a hand to wave goodbye to Kise, immediately catching the model’s attention. Kise bounced once, lifting his palm open in a signal to stop, and Aomine raised an eyebrow in confusion as Kise started to hurry towards him.

“Aominecchi, you’re going?” he called out.

“Yeah, Satsuki’s dragging me to meet that producer guy,” Aomine grumbled with a sigh.

Kise stopped in front of them, looking as photogenic as ever, dressed up for the billboards and magazine covers. “With Kisaragi-san? What for?”

“Dai-chan got an offer for a cameo appearance!” Momoi piped up cheerily. “On a show!”

Kise’s eyes widened, face brightening in a way that made both Aomine and Haizaki want to squint. “ _Eh?_ Really? That’s awesome!” he smiled, and this time Aomine and Haizaki _did_ squint at how bright he was. “Congrats, Aominecchi! You should give it a shot!”

Aomine made a face. “Eh, why? Seems like a hassle. I don’t want to get filmed.”

“It’s not that hard! Besides, you’ve been getting filmed since middle school, geez,” Kise chuckled.

“That’s different,” Aomine pouted.

“It’s similar!” Kise laughed, and Aomine got that feeling of wanting to wear sunglasses again. “You should really consider it.”

“Yeah yeah,” Aomine waved a hand. “That’s why I’m going with Satsuki.”

“Afterwards though, do you have any plans?”

Aomine blinked at Kise. “Er, no? Maybe eat at the cafeteria down here with Satsuki, then mope about not being allowed to play basketball, I guess.”

Momoi grumbled, frowning and putting her hands on her hips. “I already said you have to rest up, geez.”

“Yes mom.”

Momoi smacked him on the arm again. “You trying to add to my injuries, woman?” Aomine barked at her, rubbing his stinging arm.

Kise was laughing again, reaching out to Aomine’s arm. He stopped right before touching him though, then pulled back with a start. Aomine raised a brow, confused, and Kise smiled, as if he could cover up his expression under a wide enough smile. “Aominecchi’s so cared for,” he chuckled, clenching his fist. He brought it down to his side in an effort to not make it obvious that he avoided touching him just then. “If you’re not doing anything, wanna watch those movies with me later?”

Aomine didn’t want to question Kise’s odd behavior, but wondered about it nonetheless. “Ah, right, we weren’t able to yesterday.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Kise grinned sheepishly, scratching the side of his head. Aomine’s eyes briefly flickered to Kise’s fingers, brushing under his golden hair in a way that made the locks fluff around in soft waves. Aomine had this small desire to touch Kise’s hair again, and had to stuff his hands in his pockets to make sure he didn’t.

“No biggie,” Aomine told him. “I’m game. Can’t let you go on not knowing how Kenshin gets to—”

“ _AAAHHHH!_ ” Kise screamed, bringing his hands to his ears to block out Aomine’s spoilers. Aomine laughed, and Kise pouted at him. “I said _no spoilers_ you jerk!”

Before realizing it, Aomine’s hand was already ruffling Kise’s hair, and he mentally cursed himself for it but kept laughing anyway. “So let’s watch. What time will you be out?”

“A bit later than yesterday, actually,” Kise said, escaping from Aomine’s hand. Kise wore an apologetic look, and seemed like he was already reconsidering his own offer.

“I’ll wait,” Aomine said before Kise could take it back.

Kise looked up at him through his lashes, which Aomine couldn’t help but notice were long and delicate-like, and made Kise’s golden eyes seem like small suns peeking out of a silhouetted horizon. “Really?”

“Yeah, not like I’ve got anything better to do besides sulk around about not being allowed to play basketball.”

Momoi sighed exasperatedly. “Yeah, Ki-chan, you and Dai-chan should hang out. It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other and at least watching movies won’t make Dai-chan’s injury any worse,” she said flatly, in the voice of one truly martyred.

“Injury?” Haizaki piped up. “Is that why you’re not allowed to play?”

“ _NO,_ ” Momoi flapped, immediately panicking.

“So that’s a yes then,” Haizaki raised an eyebrow, and Momoi visibly deflated.

“Please don’t tell anyone," she groaned.

“Why?” Haizaki squinted, mischievous.

“It’s a pro basketball thing,” Kise lectured. “We have to keep it a secret, Shougo.”

Haizaki leaned back, shrugging, a fond smirk tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright.”

Both Aomine and Momoi stared in wonder at how Haizaki and Kise were together, still disbelieving of how Haizaki had changed. He was, essentially, the same person: still foul-mouthed and mischievous and threatening; but he’d grown up. He was more calm, more…content. He seemed contented and perfectly at ease with his current situation, his life. Like there was no longer anything that made him constantly hostile and angry, nothing that made him want to take from others like he used to. It was like he’d found a home.

“Tanaka-san’s on leave so I’ll drive you,” Haizaki told Kise.

“Eh? He is?” Kise blinked owlishly, then his expression turned guilty. “Ah, right, it’s been a bunch of late nights for him recently.”

“Yeah, gotta give the old man his rest,” Haizaki smirked.

“I like it better when you’re driving anyway,” Kise said with a sigh.

“You do?” Haizaki tilted his head, open curiosity in his face.

“Yeah, you make sure to drive smoothly so that I get better sleep,” Kise said matter-of-factly. “No sudden turns or stops and you ease in and out of acceleration gently and efficiently, so that the ride’s comfortable.”

Haizaki stiffened, cheeks immediately dusting pink, looking like the compliments had physically attacked him. “Wha—I’m pretty sure you’re always asleep when I drive!”

Kise cocked his head, questioning, but then a smile spread out through his face, all charm and playful and bright. “I don’t always get completely knocked out you know,” he clicked his tongue. “It’s really different when you drive. Tanaka-san keeps spacing out and suddenly it feels like I’m in a freaking amusement park ride. I almost fell off the backseat a few times, even. But when you drive, it’s really smooth and comfortable and I end up getting some really good sleep. So thanks, I guess.”

Haizaki narrowed his eyes, face scrunched against the blood pooling his cheeks. It looked like he’d just been cornered by Kise’s words and thoroughly pummelled, and Haizaki’s face defaulted to his angry, taken aback one, albeit adorned with a blush that he’d utterly lost control of. He jerked his head to look away from Kise, grumbling out a “Goddammit, Ryouta.”

To his side, Aomine brought a hand over his mouth and muffled a laugh, resulting in an obnoxious snort. “Holy shit, is this real.”

Haizaki punched Aomine’s arm in an instant, and Aomine yelped. “ _Ack_ , why are you all aiming for my shooting arm, geez.”

“Shooting arm my ass,” Haizaki spat, still flustered. “You’re practically ambidextrous. For all I know, you can shoot a basketball with your damn feet.”

“You know, I haven’t tried that,” Aomine pointed out.

“You probably can, actually,” Momoi sighed. She was pretty sure she didn’t need that information.

Haizaki smacked a hand over his face, as if he could somehow push the blush down his neck. “ _Anyway_ , just come back here if you’re going to Ryouta’s place, bastard.”

Aomine was still laughing in suppressed snorts. “Got it, Mr. Bodyguard Sir.” He dodged Haizaki’s next punch, then turned to Kise. “See you later, then.”

Kise chuckled, and it sounded like light music, the kind that carried through a breeze and made a day perfect. “See you later, Aominecchi!”

The upward curl of Aomine’s lips felt so natural, like you couldn’t help but smile around Kise; like nothing could be wrong if Kise was happy. Aomine vaguely felt confused about that feeling, but mentally shrugged it off—it didn’t seem wrong at all to feel that way. Odd, but not wrong.

“See you, Haizaki-kun, Ki-chan!” Momoi beamed, absently grabbing onto the hem of Aomine’s shirt and tugging.

Kise waved, looking so radiant it was as if he’d taken in the energy of the sun, all brilliant and shining and full of _life_ that Aomine had almost run into the door on the way out, as if momentarily blinded. Haizaki would have laughed if he wasn’t looking at Kise, and even after years of working by his side and getting accustomed to the celebrity’s brightness, Haizaki found himself staring in wonder at how much _more_ Kise was then. A rare wide smile that curved his cheeks high crinkled the corners of his eyes, making his lashes frame those amber orbs and make them _sparkle._ Haizaki narrowed his eyes, following Kise’s gaze to land on Aomine, who was grinning as he waved goodbye. And Kise was still watching when Aomine’s back was turned to them, up until he and Momoi disappeared into a hall outside.

When Kise brought his hand down and noticed Haizaki observing him, his smile immediately dropped. Haizaki had an impish, scheming sneer, and looked like he was excited for a murder he was about to commit. Kise was immediately suspicious, stepping back in abrupt apprehension.

“ _What,_ ” Kise frowned. “What’s that face for?”

Haizaki’s smirk only curled up, evil. “You _sure_ you just _‘fell asleep’_ last night Ryouta?”

Kise’s heart might as well have dropped down to his stomach with the shock, his mind taking a moment to process the sudden jeer. Two seconds had barely passed when Kise felt his face burn up, and he was sure he was red as a tomato, up until the tips of his ears. He could practically feel the steam bursting out of his ears as his eyes widened, staring at Haizaki with no filter to his expression at all.

“ _Yes of course_ ,” Kise spat, accusing.

“On _Daiki’s_ _bed_?” Haizaki’s grin was downright devious.

“There was only one bed!” Kise defended.

“So you slept with a basketball superstar.”

“Ye—fuck you.”

Haizaki laughed, boisterous and mocking. Kise brought his fist in the air, and Haizaki raised his hands in immediate surrender, stepping back in a flash. “Kidding! Just kidding!”

Kise narrowed his eyes, but brought his fist down. Rika called for him from the other end of the room, and he gave Haizaki a pointed glare before turning on his heel.

“It was such a good chance too…” Haizaki mumbled behind him, mischievous.

For some confounded reason, the image of Aomine stepping out of the shower with nothing but form-fitting boxer briefs on and small beads of water dotting his body flashed in Kise’s head, playing back the way Aomine had downed a glass of water against the light of the window, making all his curves and angles defined and his form even more impressive. Kise threw Haizaki a sharp look over his shoulder, trying for threatening but mostly just coming up with furious blushing.

“You…” Haizaki looked at him inquisitively, thinking back to something he’d thought was off since he’d seen Kise that day. “You _were wearing his shirt!_ ” he blurted out, realization hitting him. “Ryouta, did you really—”

“God fucking dammit Shougo,” Kise barked at him. “ _I fell asleep_. I was knocked out. Aominecchi brought me up to his place and let me sleep over. When I woke up, it was already morning, and I already used up my spare shirt in the car so he lent me one of his. Then he drove me here like the fucking devil. End of story.”

Haizaki’s evil smile was back, this time more playful. “You showered there.” It was more of a statement than a question, Haizaki just voicing out his little analyses.

“Yes I did. Don’t mention that to Rika-nee, Aominecchi just had those hotel bath things and she’s picky with those.”

“You saw him _naked_ , didn’t you?”

Kise tripped on a wire. Haizaki’s arm shot out to catch him by the collar in an instant, and he didn’t miss the way Kise’s flush went down to his neck as he pulled him back to stand properly.

“ _You did, didn’t you,_ ” Haizaki peered around to look at Kise’s face.

Kise smacked a hand over Haizaki’s face and pushed him away. “I didn’t!”

Haizaki stumbled back, then trotted back to Kise’s side, observing his expression. Kise was still not quite back to his usual masked celebrity face, so it didn’t look like he was outright lying, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

He turned his head away from Haizaki, ears still pink. “He was in boxer briefs.”

Kise punched Haizaki’s arm when the bastard cackled loud enough for everyone to hear.

 

# # # 

 

By the time Aomine’s meeting had finished, it felt like he’d just gone through half a basketball game with how _tired_ he became, all without even having to get off of a seat. There was something about sitting down and discussing all these entertainment industry-related things that just seemed to zap all the energy out of you the moment you get away from it. With the way Kise had been going through all his work ‘round the clock, it was no wonder he could get knocked out so solidly at the lick of a break.

Aomine let out the rough sigh he’d been holding back in the meeting. Beside him, Satsuki was still bright and chipper for some ungodly reason, tapping away at her phone and cheerily humming as they walked.

“Why are you so happy, it’s not like I accepted the offer,” Aomine grumbled.

“It’s not like you rejected it either!” Satsuki happily replied. “At least you have time to think it over.”

“What’s there to think about,” Aomine frowned, squaring his shoulders back. “I ain’t doing it.”

“Come on, Dai-chan!” Satsuki said, looking away from her phone to pout at him. “It’s a tiny cameo role for like _one_ episode. It’ll be a couple of minutes of screen time, at most.”

Aomine sighed again, running a hand through his hair. He needed a haircut—he could actually grab some locks of hair and tug on them—and made a mental note to get Satsuki to cut it for him sometime.

“You’ll be _playing_ _basketball_ ,” Satsuki poked, grinning expectantly.

Aomine’s hand twitched. Surely enough, the producer they spoke to was clever and charismatic, and he just _knew_ that he got Aomine’s attention when he told him that they wanted him to “just practice some basketball in front of the camera.” It wasn’t a game, just dribbling around, cutting around some actors and shit, maybe doing a few dunks—but it was more than anything Aomine’s been allowed to do for _weeks_.

“Plus, it’s for Ki-chan’s drama!” Satsuki added excitedly, bouncing on her step. “I wouldn’t insist if I knew you’d totally hate it, but I figured it’d be okay for you if Ki-chan was around. Familiar face and all.”

Aomine wrinkled his nose. The fact that he was being asked to cameo in _Kise’s_ drama coupled with the fact that he’d be playing _basketball_ all sounded pretty damn good to him. Having Kise around would make everything feel less stiff and take off the weird thick pressure that Aomine feels when surrounded by the showbiz people. Kise would be that warm, bright light that made a dark and stuffy room full of strangers feel like home.

If only the formalities and the meetings and facades didn’t have to be involved, Aomine would be more willing to do it. And the idea that he’d play basketball itself was great, but with _actors_ is another issue altogether. Aomine’s style of basketball was all about freeform, no plans or scripts, and it was bad enough that he was going to be “playing” with small fry, but these were guys who might as well have no feelings for basketball whatsoever. They would just be acting. And they’d have a hundred faces for Aomine to see but he wouldn’t trust a single one.

“I’m sure Ki-chan would be happy about it too,” Satsuki told him. “He seems happy to have a friend next to him in the middle of all that hectic celebrity career.”

Aomine huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. True, Kise was tired as shit, and he’d sometimes get this way about him when he’s doing his work, but Kise was being Kise. Still that same cheery blonde bundle of sunlight that Kise had always been. At least around Aomine.

“Meh,” was all Aomine could come up with. “By the way,” he turned to look at Satsuki. “How far is the damn cafeteria anyway? We’ve been walking around a while.”

Satsuki stiffened, the fingers around her phone tightening every so slightly. She narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips, and Aomine stopped walking.

“Satsuki,” Aomine said. “Are we lost?”

She huffed, stopping just a few steps ahead of Aomine. “No! It’s just—all I know is that it’s somewhere in these upper floors.”

Aomine smacked a hand over his face, inhaling deep. “So you don’t know where it is.”

“Shut up, it’s somewhere here, we’ll find it.”

Both Aomine’s and Satsuki’s stomachs made some grumbling sounds, and Aomine let out another long-suffering sigh. “I’m _hungry_.”

“Well so am I, you _child_ ,” Satsuki snapped, huffing. “We’ll find it, let’s just—keep looking.” She turned and stomped towards another corner, and Aomine followed with another sigh.

“Ah, there’s someone there!” she piped up, noticing a person in the far end of the corridor sitting on a bench in front of a door. “Let’s ask them.”

When they neared, the person turned out to be Haizaki, scrolling through something on his phone with an amused expression.

“Oh, Haizaki-kun, hello!” Satsuki said.

Haizaki turned, half-surprised, and blinked at them. “Oh, you’re back. That was quick.”

“What are you doing out here?” Satsuki glanced at the door across them.

“Ryouta’s got a meeting in there,” Haizaki shrugged. “I don’t really need to be around so I’m sitting it out.”

“A meeting? Right after the shoot?” Aomine grimaced. Kise was really doing one thing after another without pause.

“Yep,” Haizaki leaned back on the wall behind him, resting his hands on his lap. “He’s got a pretty tight schedule.”

Satsuki’s stomach made another noise. She flushed and hugged it. “What about lunch?”

“Rika made him a _bento_ ,” Haizaki said. “He ate for a bit right before going to the meeting, and he’ll eat again later. You guys headed to the cafeteria?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Satsuki breathed. “We’ve been trying to look for it for a while now.”

Haizaki raised an eyebrow. “Oh. I could show you the way. I guess.”

“ _Really?_ ” Satsuki visibly brightened up, and Haizaki flinched. “That would be great! Please do!”

Haizaki huffed, heaving himself to stand and shrugging. He started walking to the end of the hall. “Alright, it’s on the floor above.”

“Sorry for the bother!” Satsuki bounced next to him.

“Neh,” Haizaki mumbled. “Might as well eat too.”

He turned his head away from the beaming Satsuki, and Aomine almost chuckled at how awkward Haizaki was when he was being _nice_. Aomine didn’t know just how long ago Haizaki had started to change, but it was definitely not a complete transformation. There were small actions, almost imperceptible, that only people who knew him would consider _new_ or _different_ , by Haizaki standards. The way he’d kept the door open for Momoi when they went through the service stairs, the small bows he did for people who knew him because of Kise, the way he slowed his pace for Momoi to keep up with their long strides. They were practically unnoticeable, just normal things anyone would do, but for Haizaki, they were all sure signs that he’d really changed.

“It’s here,” Haizaki told them, pushing open a glass door to let Momoi in. She glanced up at him with sparkling eyes, noticing just how different he was, and smiled at him as she walked inside. Aomine didn’t miss the way Haizaki averted his eyes with a pout and the small flush on his cheeks, and Aomine made sure to grin at the bodyguard in a way that made it obvious he _knew._ Haizaki glared at Aomine when the basketball pro stepped behind Momoi while Haizaki still held the door.

The cafeteria was huge, spacious and bright, with some glass dividers cutting the space in different parts. The walls were dotted with framed photos, posters, and articles of the company’s productions and stars, both old and new. There was a wide counter on one end filled with food displayed glamorously over it, and on another end was a small bar, where all manner of coffee, shakes, and smoothies seemed to be available. There were just a few people in the cafeteria, but Aomine noticed how some of them were familiar—faces he’d seen on TV or online or on magazines somewhere. Others were poring over papers and tablets, some muttering to themselves, some talking over the phone. As they walked to a table, they passed by a blue-haired girl who Aomine recognized was a model he’d seen in billboards, and a few tables back, Aomine saw a tall, brown-haired man sprawled on a long couch, sleeping quite soundly, just about as knocked out as Kise looked the day before. On a smaller couch next to him sat a similarly dozing pink-haired man, head bobbing gently against the backrest of the couch. They were both lean and almost as blaringly attractive as Kise, probably models or actors or both. Somewhere on another end of the room, there was a woman with her head buried in her arms on her table, also sleeping; and Aomine really wondered about how these guys were completely down for the count right there, but look the way they did and work the way they worked when they were out in public. It was like how Kise had slept so peacefully in the car and on the bed, and how he’d spring to this bright _life_ and do one thing after another in front of studio lights and camera flashes and hundreds of faces, and for a moment Aomine felt kind of impressed and kind of amazed.

They ordered their food and sat at a table on one of the far ends, Haizaki immediately moving his attention back to his phone as he awkwardly tried to make himself look preoccupied. Aomine felt his stomach grumble, and tried to distract himself by peering over at whatever Haizaki was browsing.

“What’cha looking at?” Aomine asked.

Haizaki grumbled, but then a sly grin started to stretch out over his face. “Just checking what’s going around about Ryouta online,” he said. “You’re in a lot of these right now, you know.”

Aomine furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

Haizaki’s smile stretched more impish and mischievous. “Ever since the show you were a special guest at, you’ve been a trending topic alongside Ryouta. The fans are going crazy about your relationship.”

Aomine’s face twisted into a weird-ass frown and scrunch. “ _’Relationship’?_ You mean _‘friendship’_?”

Haizaki’s smile was full out scheming now. “Nah, I mean _relationship_ ,” he sneered. ”You should read what they’re talking about. These guys have your guest appearance analyzed to the smallest change in expression or the simplest statements, they’ve fucking unearthed your _past_ and pictures are going around everywhere.”

“What the fuck,” was all Aomine could say.

“Here, look,” Haizaki put his phone on the table and turned it to face Aomine. On the screen was a picture of Aomine half-carrying Kise when he’d hugged him during that show, and another when they were laughing at each other after pulling apart. Haizaki scrolled a little to a photo of Aomine in his basketball uniform taken from one of his games abroad. He was smirking about something as he walked away from their team’s bench. Beside it was a picture of him laughing with Kise on that show a few days ago, and under that was a similar pair of photos, this time of Kise: one where he was smiling on a different TV show, and another where he was laughing alongside Aomine, again from the one they were at just recently. On the thread the poster had commented:

_> > Kise Ryouta-san smiled the widest and brightest when he was with Aomine Daiki-san!! It was so different from his usual smile and he was so happy!! It’s a Kise-san that we haven’t seen before and my heart is happy <3 It looks like Aomine Daiki-san is also different with Kise-san and smiles more >3< _

“What,” Aomine said flatly, not quite understanding. “What. How was Kise different back then? Kise was being Kise. What are these girls talking about.”

Haizaki shrugged, considering it. “They’re right, actually. I mean look at their evidence—” he scrolled some more and showed these comparison pictures that the fans had put together. There were a lot of shots of Kise on different shows, different interviews and appearances, all alongside numerous shots of his smiling and laughing on the most recent show with Aomine. True enough, there was an almost significant difference in the way Kise smiled and laughed—they were all smiles and grins and open shots of laughter, but there was something more dazzling about his smiles on the other shows. Like he was especially beautiful and attractive, like there was a certain control being exerted in his expressions. It was definitely different, and seeing those shots alongside the ones taken from the recent show, Aomine could understand how these fans could point out the difference—they were right, Kise seemed _happy_ , his smile stretched out wide and candid, his laughing face clear bursts of joy and abandon. It was how Aomine always knew Kise to be, so what was more _different_ to him was Kise’s other shots, rather than the “new” Kise that he was more familiar with.

“You see it, right? Even just in photos,” Haizaki said. “For those who follow Ryouta’s appearances and watched the latest show, it’s pretty different, how he was. Even if I’m used to his normal self, even _I_ noticed it when you came out as the guest.”

“I don’t really get it, is it like a celebrity thing?” Aomine took over scrolling on Haizaki’s phone, knotting his eyebrows as he surfed.

“Yeah, they have to keep up appearances and all that shit,” Haizaki said. “Ryouta‘s a natural at it, of course. It’s kind of like a fucking art, what all those idols and celebrities do, and Ryouta’s practically mastered it. Figures it’d take an idiot like you to make him forget to keep up the usual act.”

Aomine’s response to the jab was a very pointed glare, but he quickly went back to scrolling.

“Is Ki-chan always acting?” he heard Satsuki say, just as the food was served to their table.

“Nah, well, a little,” Haizaki replied. “He’s being himself, but a version that attracts fans and makes him more popular, or some shit like that. These celebrity guys, they do stuff in a way that makes them—what did Rika say again...desirable? Attractive? That shit. Body language, the way they control their voice and speech, how they wave, smile, laugh, move—fucking _breathe_ , even. All that complicated-ass shit.” Haizaki looked annoyed he had to think about it. Rika and Ryouta had lectured him about it far too often already.

“Yeah, that sounds hard and complicated,” Satsuki wrinkled her nose. “Ki-chan’s amazing.”

Haizaki hummed in agreement. Beside him, Aomine was still browsing, finding pictures of himself posted around these forum things and frowning at them. They were a mix of photos of him: some paparazzi shots from when he and the team would go out or train, some of the feature photos of him In basketball and sports magazines, and a whole lot of photos of him playing on the international stage—it annoyed him because they made him want to play, made his fingers itch and twitch with the barely kept in energy he had in surplus. And then there were the pictures of him and Kise on that show, and Aomine saw how Kise really looked the same, practically hearing in his head the insistent “Aominecchi, let’s play one-on-one!” and getting that little flame of an urge to do just that.

When an old picture came up on the screen, Aomine’s fingers stalled.

“Ooh, how nostalgic,” Satsuki said, leaning forward to look over at the screen. “That was when you got into the semi-finals of Inter-High, wasn’t it?”

“’ _We’,_ ” Aomine corrected absently, staring at the photo. “And it was the quarter-finals.”

The picture was of Aomine, his face frozen in a laugh, open and loud and completely _happy_. He had his arm around Kise, pulling him close as the Kise grinned an ear-to-ear grin, both of them celebrating a victory. They were drenched in sweat and wore their Teiko basketball uniforms, and behind them was a backdrop of cheering crowds and the scoreboard showing one hundred and five points.

“Really? I’m surprised you remember,” Satsuki mumbled across them, already eating.

Aomine was pretty surprised too, the memory coming easily to him. That time, he had scored one of the highest he’d ever reached, almost as if he was competing with Kise over who could get the most points as forwards. Whenever the pass connected to him, Aomine would practically tear through the court in a flurry, feeling the rush of adrenaline and the torrent of the game power his every move. Kise would always be following close behind, as if he was ready to steal the ball, just watching Aomine with that spark of admiration he had in his eyes since the day he burst into the gym and asked to join their club. Back then Kise would always be right behind him, trying to catch up.

“It was a fun game,” Aomine muttered, eyes fixed on the screen. He pulled his hands back and leaned into his seat, wrenching his eyes away from the screen and focusing on his food.

“Can I have my phone back now,” Haizaki spat while chewing, not waiting for an answer either way and snatching his phone back. Aomine made an incoherent noise, a small huff, and picked up his chopsticks to eat.

“I’ll be right back,” Satsuki excused herself, standing up from her seat with a vibrating phone in her hand. The two men across her grumbled out some sounds of acknowledgement, and she snorted once before walking away.

“Holy shit she’s practically finished eating,” Haizaki said, blinking at Satsuki’s near-empty plates.

“Hey, Haizaki,” Aomine said, picking absently at his food, pondering. “Does Kise have something against people—I don’t know—touching him?” For a while now he couldn’t get it out of his head how Kise would flinch when Aomine would bring an arm over his shoulders or even just put on his freaking seatbelt. How Kise somehow shied away from contact somehow—or was it just Aomine’s imagination? The celebrity _had_ attacked him with a  hug on that show when he’d appeared—but ever since then there was that weird, awkward… _thing_ that seemed to make Kise recoil from even the slightest contact.

When Aomine turned to Haizaki, he was met with a sharp, icy stare. Haizaki’s eyes were suddenly cold and intense, bordering on a fierce glare that almost made Aomine flinch. It wasn’t the same as Haizaki’s scheming, wily eyes, but a stern, steadfast gaze—of _protectiveness_. It was a look of someone who was standing in the way of anything that meant harm to what he shielded. It was a look he’d never seen Haizaki have before.

“ _You_ ,” Haizaki started, eyes narrowing. “Did you lay a hand on Ryouta?”

Aomine leveled his gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Haizaki studied Aomine’s expression, searching his face, but backed off. He seemed to consider something before turning back to his food. “It’s nothing. Forget I said that.”

Aomine’s brows knitted together, and it felt like he was treading on unfamiliar waters. “Did something happen with Kise—”

“I said it’s nothing,” Haizaki interrupted, eyes flickering to him in a sidelong glare.

Aomine’s face turned serious, and it was the exact same expression Haizaki remembered seeing on him the night Aomine had cracked his jaw in a punch.

Haizaki exhaled through his nose. “It’s not for me to say,” he admitted.

A few beats passed before Aomine relaxed, resting back on his seat and returning to his food. “Okay,” he relented, at least a little bit satisfied with the vague answer. He was curious, almost unbearably so, but he didn’t want to force it. A strong nagging in the back of his mind set off a few alarms, mildly concerned about the possible implications of Haizaki’s statements. So something _was_ up. It wasn’t Aomine’s imagination. For some reason he was a little frustrated at himself, at how he’d missed something likely significant that went down with Kise. That he wasn’t there for Kise; for the easily-targeted and followed model—or celebrity, now. The thought that someone like Haizaki who’d once planned to go after Kise could have gotten to him, could have somehow done something to Kise— _hurt_ him—and Aomine wasn’t there to punch them like he had Haizaki—it made an uncomfortable boil of heat grip at his chest and he didn’t understand it.

Haizaki let out a rough sigh, as if he was having a conflict in his own head. Aomine glanced at him. “Look, sorry for what I said. I should be the last person to doubt you after all the stuff you’ve done for Ryouta but— _Jesus Christ_ Daiki what the fuck!”

Aomine started choking on his food. Something went down the wrong way and another thing got lodged in his throat and he was hacking and pounding on his chest in a panic and tears started clinging to the corners of his eyes—Haizaki grabbed a glass of water and shoved it at Aomine, keeping the glass steady as the choking idiot emptied it in large gulps.

“Fuck,” Aomine gasped, panting lightly after downing everything that threatened his breathing. “I thought I was gonna die.”

Haizaki was still smacking Aomine’s back as the blue idiot cleared his throat. “Why the hell did you fucking start _choking_ you dumbass.”

“You surprised me, jackass!” Aomine spat back, grabbing Satsuki’s glass and drinking from it. “Who the hell are you and what have you done to Haizaki?”

A nerve flared in Haizaki’s temple, his blood boiling up to his face. “ _The fuck_? What’s so fucking _surprising_ , asshole?!”

“You _apologized!_ What the hell’s with that! What’s with all the _niceness_ it’s like you’re a fucking _angel_ compared to your dickhead self from before!”

Haizaki’s eye twitched, and his teeth formed a toothy snarl. “You fucking—is that supposed to be an _insult?_ ” He grabbed the top of Aomine’s head in a vice grip.

Aomine smacked his hand away. “You’re weird! What’s wrong with you! Bring back the douchebag I know! It feels weird hearing that from you!”

“You piece of shit—” Haizaki barked, feeling his cheeks burn as he and Aomine started wrestling on their seats, pushing at each other’s faces and garbling out profanities at each other. By then, the other occupants of the cafeteria were squinting at them suspiciously, or laughing in amusement, or taking videos. Satsuki returned to find them still at it like children, and she buried her face in her hands for a few moments, contemplating her place in the world and why it had to be near these two idiots, then walked back to them.

“ _Children_ , please stop fighting,” she said, pulling her face into a smile.

Aomine and Haizaki glanced at her and immediately froze, seeing a pretty, grinning Satsuki with the expression that didn’t take shit from anyone and an aura that screamed _any more and I’ll bury you._ The two boys promptly snapped back into their seats, mollified.

She sat down, dainty and proper, still smiling at them as the two felt sweat break out at the back of their necks. She dabbed at her lips with a tissue and flashed another smile, a cheery one, and Aomine and Haizaki smiled nervously, bumping shoulders with each other and instantly wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders.

“We’re not fighting, we’re just catching up!” Aomine said, fluffing the back of Haizaki’s head.

“Yeah, we’re being good friends!” Haizaki beamed, eyebrows twitching.

“ _Great_ friends.”

“Great friends!”

“The _best_ of friends.”

“I wouldn’t really go that far but—”

“You fucker just play along for now—”

“That’s _great!_ ” Satsuki clapped her hands once, still smiling that horrifyingly sweet smile. “It’s so nice to see you two getting along!”

Aomine and Haizaki tensed, smiles coming out crooked and forced. “Y-yeah.”

“Rika-chan just texted me, by the way, asking about later on,” she went on. “But I handled it, so you can go have fun and catch up with each other more later, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” both boys affirmed.

“Also, Haizaki-kun, Rika-chan says she needs you over on the ninth floor for something,” Satsuki informed him.

“Got it,” Haizaki said, finishing the last of his food and shuffling to stand up.

“Thanks for bringing us here!” Satsuki told him, some of the ice behind her smile disappearing.

“Sure.” Haizaki nodded once, then made to leave. He paused at Aomine’s side. “Hey… _friend_ ,” he tried, holding back a snort. Aomine raised an eyebrow at him, obviously trying not to roll his eyes. “Just ask Ryouta about that thing you’re concerned about. He’ll probably tell you…sometime. Maybe not immediately, but he will. He’ll tell _you_.”

The way Haizaki had said ‘ _you’_ implied something Aomine didn’t quite get, so he simply nodded. “Alright. Thanks.” Haizaki returned the nod, and Aomine smirked. “Tell me the whole story about how you got your job sometime. Let’s go out for a drink or something.”

“So long as it’s your treat, Mr. Basketball Superstar,” Haizaki said, stuffing his phone into his pocket.

“Sure,” Aomine simpered. “See you… _friend._ ”

Haizaki snorted at him, but he mirrored Aomine’s smirk, waving over his shoulder as he left. “See you.”

Aomine snickered, eating what’s left of his food. Satsuki was looking at Haizaki’s retreating back with a thoughtful expression, then turned back to Aomine, who straightened up, squaring his broad shoulders as he leaned back. He’d stopped slouching and started carrying himself with a bright new confidence and regard, and even if it’s been years, Satsuki was still sometimes pleasantly surprised about it. He was still Dai-chan in every way that counts, but he had matured.

“What’s up?” Aomine asked, observing her expression.

Satsuki shook her head. “People really grow up, huh.”

Aomine blinked at her, then shrugged. “I guess.”

“And you drank from my glass,” she pointed out, and Aomine stiffened. “Didn’t you?”

“I’m getting you a new one, geez,” Aomine stood up, groaning. Satsuki giggled, and Aomine grinned at her before moving to the counter.

 

# # #

 

The sky was a myriad of pinks and oranges the next time Kise looked out a window. He blinked, scrunching his dry eyes a few times, and stretched his long arms up and back with a deep inhale. That’s two shoots and three meetings done for the day, and tomorrow he’d have a late start—half a day’s rehearsal for an upcoming fashion show, and then a tour of the new studios set up for the drama, followed by a magazine feature shoot and interview. Kise mentally ticked down his schedule for the next three days, running them twice or thrice in his head so they’d stick. The next week would be the crunch for the fashion show—shoots for the photo book, catalogue, photo collection, and promotional videos, among others. Kise was one of the top models of the industry and therefore one of the main attractions of the show. Shooting for his drama resumes in the next week too, so his training schedules were going to be melded into his few free timeslots in different intervals—

Aominecchi looked up at Kise from where he waited, mouth arching up into a smirk as he tugged off his cap. “Yo. Still alive, superstar?”

The corners of Kise’s lips curved naturally around an effortless smile, and all of a sudden he felt at ease. He was sure he was thinking about some long and complicated things, important things, but he somehow couldn’t remember what they were anymore. “Survived another day,” he answered with a thumbs up, noticing Haizaki leaning against the car parked behind him.  

“Have you eaten?” Aomine asked, moving to walk beside him.

“A little,” Kise hummed. “What about you? Are you hungry? Did you get to eat in the cafeteria?”

“Yep, almost starved looking for it with Satsuki though,” Aomine said, a small smile on his lips. “I had a snack with her a little while ago too, so I’m good. You should eat something.”

“On the way then,” Kise said, turning to Haizaki. “Let’s pass by a drive thru?” he told Haizaki, tilting his head a fraction to the side.  

Haizaki raised a brow at Kise’s overly adorable doe eyes, and he wasn’t even sure if the model was doing it on purpose anymore. He sighed. “Yeah, sure.” There was no winning against Kise, not for him.

Kise lit up and _sparkled_ , the light of the sunset making him _glow_. “Yay!” he cheered, beaming at Haizaki, who fought the urge to squint.

“Get in then,” Haizaki sighed again, opening the passenger door. Kise bounced inside as Aomine walked to the opposite side, shooting Haizaki a sneer, making the bodyguard roll his eyes in response. Rika climbed into the front passenger seat, Haizaki slipping into the driver’s seat beside her. They both strapped on their seatbelts without pause, and Haizaki started the car, rolling it into the road.

“See, even Haizaki remembers to put on his seatbelt,” Aomine said behind them.

“Shut up,” Kise snapped back, and Haizaki was sure that the celebrity was pouting.

“It’s okay princess, I won’t forget to strap it on for you.”

Haizaki couldn’t help the smirk that stretched out his lips when he heard the telltale _whump_ as Kise smacked Aomine with his pillow.

“Don’t be rowdy back there, children,” Rika called out to them over her shoulder, and the two children in question pouted at them, but settled down with little chuckles. Haizaki felt like he was fucking driving two brats back home.

The ride was different this time around, with Kise chattering every so often with Aomine at the back—as opposed to just falling over and sleeping. The sky had darkened over pretty quickly, but it still seemed like the day with how Kise was sparkling all over the place.

“This is my stop,” Rika said after a while, collecting her things.

Haizaki stopped the car near the entrance of a building, and Kise’s head popped up in the middle of the front seats. “Rika-nee you still have a meeting?”

The older Kise smiled at her brother and pet his head. “Yeah, just gonna report in and coordinate with the other managers and agents for next week. And then I’ll be having dinner out.”

“Okay. Take care, then!” Kise said, waving at her as she moved to exit the car.

“Yep!” Rika looked at Haizaki. “Thanks, Shougo,” she said, then she turned to Aomine and Kise. “Don’t stay up too late, alright?”

“Yes, mo _mph!_ ”

“Will do, nee-chan!” Kise smiled brightly, one hand clamped around Aomine’s mouth. ”See you tomorrow!”

Rika raised an eyebrow at the two boys, then shrugged, waving as she stepped out of the car. “See you!”

Aomine pulled Kise’s hand off of his mouth when the door shut behind her, giving the celebrity a pointed look. Kise chuckled, waving his hands. “Sorry, sorry, Rika-nee doesn’t like being called ‘mom’—it makes her feel old.”

“How old is she anyway?” Aomine sat back.

“She’s seven years older than me,” Kise replied.

Aomine’s eyes went wide. “ _No._ Are you kidding me? That’s _old!_ She looks just about two to three years older!”

Kise laughed. “It’s not that old! But you’re not the first to say that.”

“You Kises and your pretty genes,” Aomine grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

In front of them, Haizaki snorted in agreement.

A brightly lit restaurant came into view. “What’s your order?” Haizaki called, turning the car to the drive thru.

“The usual!” Kise answered. “What about you, Aominecchi?”

“Just fries, I guess,” Aomine shrugged. “I’m not that hungry.”

“You sure?” Kise cocked his head to one side at him. Aomine had this urge to pinch his nose.

“Treat me out next time,” Aomine said, averting his eyes.

The promise of _‘next time’_ sounded good to Kise, so that effortless smile curved higher on his face, making his eyes twinkle. “Alright,” he told Aominecchi, then dumped his pillow on the basketball player’s lap when Haizaki drove to the first window and started ordering.

Before Aomine could process it, Kise’s head had plopped down onto the pillow atop Aomine’s thighs, and for a beat, Aomine froze. “What are you—”

“I’m hiding,” Kise whispered, turning his head to look up at Aomine with a grin. “Wouldn’t hurt to be safe, you know?”

Aomine stared at him, at the face that’s been on billboards and magazine covers and on national television; the face that lit up the day like the sun would, and made everything feel so fucking bright and happy for no damn reason. He stared as Kise grinned at him, smile so wide that his eyes crinkled, making his long eyelashes flutter around those gleaming gold eyes. With the pillow in between them, Kise’s head felt like a soft, warm weight, not too heavy and not too light, like a soothing presence that you wanted to keep beside you. For a moment, Aomine just stared, then opted to roll his eyes, shrugging as he shook his head with a sigh. “Okay, whatever you need, princess.”

Kise pouted and reached a finger out to Aomine’s face, poking him once then flinching back with a start, pulling his hand back.

There it was again, that weird hesitation. Aomine tried not to dwell on it and stuck his hand in Kise’s hair to ruffle it. Kise sputtered and shook his head under Aomine’s hand, face breaking into a laugh. “Aominecchi _stop,_ ” he chuckled, turning his head around on his pillow.

That same curiosity nagged at Aomine again, and he wanted to ask Kise about it but couldn’t find the heart to, not now. It didn’t feel like the best time to ask, and Aomine didn’t know why, or even when it _would_ be appropriate to, but for now, it was enough that Kise was laughing.

“Okay, stop flirting, here’s your food,” Haizaki said from his seat, reaching over to dump the takeout bags on Kise’s chest. Kise flailed and sat up, cradling the food in his arms as he shifted back to sit properly.

Kise handed Aomine his fries, cheerily unwrapping his takeout and popping a chicken nugget into his mouth. The model made a happy little face, satisfied, and took another bite of his food before plucking out a couple of fries from his bag. Aomine watched as Kise leaned over the backrest of the front seats and reached over to Haizaki with the fries. “Shougo, eat.”

Haizaki’s eyes flickered to the fries brushing at his jaw, momentarily getting this grumpy expression before he opened his mouth to eat the fries. Kise let go as Haizaki chewed, the grumpy expression returning when Kise stuck another couple of fries out at his face. With a  grumble, Haizaki snatched the fries from Kise’s fingers with his mouth and muttered, “What am I, a dog?”

Kise sniggered, patting Haizaki’s shoulder, then sat back on his seat. “Gotta make sure my bodyguard’s well-fed,” he said, chuckling when Haizaki grunted out a snort in response.

Aomine blinked at Kise, brows furrowed. _People grow up_ , huh.

“Hm? Did you say something, Aominecchi?” Kise said, cheeks half-stuffed with meat.

 _Did I say that out loud?_ “No.” Aomine shook his head. He absently munched on his fries as he watched Kise cram nuggets in his mouth. “What will your fangirls think of you eating like that, geez.”

Kise exhaled through his nose, jutting out his lip in a way that made Aomine wonder how the hell it was possible for Kise to _still_ look attractive even when he was stuffing his face like a damn hamster. Kise chewed loudly, then took a swig of his soda and swallowed. “There are no fangirls around, so I don’t care,” he huffed, popping another bite-sized nugget in his mouth. Then he put a hand over his lips with an overdramatic expression, gasping theatrically. “Unless you’re secretly a _fangirl_ , Aominecchi.”

Aomine made a face like he’d just licked the bottom of a shoe that’s walked a mile down the sewers. Kise snorted, almost choking on his food, downing his drink to clear his throat. “Kidding, kidding!” he coughed out, smile still stretched wide enough to wrinkle the corners of his eyes. “But really,” Kise put a hand up, the other still pressed near his mouth. “I can be normal around you, so I’m happy about that.”

Aomine stared at him, feeling himself relax, and this small warmth spread in his chest. “Well good for you, superstar,” Aomine mumbled, grabbing a mouthful of fries and stuffing them in his cheeks. Kise chuckled, and it sounded like some kind of music again, like the swing of a door that welcomes you home, and Aomine couldn’t fight the small smile that curled up his lips.

It felt like they’d just repeated yesterday, except it was a bit later and Haizaki was behind the wheel. The skies were already pretty dark, and they hadn’t just escaped from potentially being mobbed by fangirls, but they were eating fast food, beside each other, and that was all just fine—for both of them. Aomine contented himself with resting back, absently eating and listening to Kise’s satisfied humming and munching, and let himself relax. His jetlag was fading, and he’s been chock full of energy from barely doing any activity, always restless and quick to spark with small flakes of annoyance. By then, just sitting on his ass in a car would have made him restive, but in Kise’s car, driven by _Haizaki_ of all people, eating normal shitty fast food—it all made him calm; content with the soft warmth of Kise’s knee bumping against his. The only word that really came to mind for it all was _home_.

The sky turned dark without Aomine really noticing, his calm somehow washing over him like a gentle wave rolling to a shore. They’d been sitting and eating in comfortable silence, and Aomine didn’t know when they’d stopped talking but everything felt as natural as the night darkening above them. It wasn’t long before Aomine felt a warm weight gently thud on his shoulder, and he let out a breath, already knowing what he'd find there.

He slowly turned his head, glancing at his shoulder where Kise’s head had slumped down on, swaying loosely, his breathing deep and even, and his eyelids gently fluttered closed.

“Did he fall asleep?” Haizaki said quietly.

“Mm,” Aomine hummed in response, bringing a hand to the side of Kise’s head to gently tug it to rest on his shoulder. Kise’s hair softly fell over his eyes, and he leaned into Aomine’s shoulder with a light sigh.

“So much for movie night,” Haizaki muttered.

“Meh,” Aomine hummed again, letting out a deep breath, feeling himself getting even more calmed.

“You knew he’d fall asleep,” Haizaki said, more of a statement than a question.

“Eh, I guess,” Aomine half-shrugged, tilting his head a little towards Kise’s. “He’s working hard.”

Haizaki held off on asking why Aomine bothered to even go, knowing that. He brought his eyes up to glance at them from the rearview mirror, seeing Kise fast asleep with his head on Aomine’s shoulder, both of them looking right at home like that. Haizaki looked back to the road with a small smirk, driving into a parking lot as smoothly as he could.

“We’re here,” Haizaki said, turning off the engine.

“Hey Kise,” Aomine tried, nudging at the sleeping Kise. No reaction. “Hey princess, wake up,” Aomine tried again, only getting the slightest of shifts and mumbles from Kise.

Haizaki stepped out of the car and walked over to Kise’s side, opening the door. “No good, huh?”

“Yeah,” Aomine sighed, ruffling Kise’s hair softly. Kise only leaned further into Aomine’s touch.

“Alright, let’s get him out of there,” Haizaki sighed, sliding his hand behind Kise’s shoulders. Aomine slowly pushed Kise forward as Haizaki tugged the model towards him, and once Kise’s weight had lifted off of Aomine, he slid out of the car from the door on his side.

Aomine walked around to Kise and Haizaki, finding the former still completely down as Haizaki pulled him to the edge of the seat. “Here, let me,” Aomine offered, moving to stand beside Haizaki. “You’ve been driving, so I’ll carry him.”

Haizaki raised a brow at Aomine, looking at him suspiciously for a moment. ”Alright.” He gave a little shrug, then stepped aside, the arm still around Kise’s shoulders gently pulling him towards Aomine, who had grabbed one of Kise’s hands as he turned his back to him. He slung Kise’s arm over one shoulder and bent to pull him closer with the other, Haizaki supporting Kise’s torso as Aomine took his weight over his back. Aomine slowly started lifting Kise up and forward, and before he could reach for Kise’s knee, he felt Kise stir, just a little, and unconsciously wrap his arms around Aomine’s neck, as if in a sleepy hug. That made it easier to pull him out, and Aomine was able to hook his arms under Kise’s knees and carry him out of the car without any problem.

Small goosebumps erupted in Aomine’s neck when Kise buried his head in Aomine’s right shoulder, his feathery hair tickling Aomine where it brushed over his skin. Aomine was distracted enough to miss Haizaki’s curious gaze, and simply followed behind the bodyguard into an elevator, mind only really focusing on the steady rise and fall of Kise’s chest and the soft hair grazing his cheek.

It was a few floors up when Aomine got accustomed to the warm weight on his back and the arms around his neck, and noticed Haizaki’s inquisitive look. Haizaki watched in fascination as Kise slowly wrapped his arms around Aomine just a little bit tighter, bury his head in his shoulder just a little closer, all while asleep.

“What?” Aomine spoke, still a little distracted by Kise’s head right next to his. “What’s with the creepy look?”

“Nah, nothing, it’s just,” Haizaki cocked his head to one side, then a smirk quirked up on one corner of his mouth. “He’s really clinging on to you there.”

Even Aomine was surprised at the sudden heat in his cheeks, and his hold on Kise’s knees slackened for a little, only making Kise unconsciously cling to him tighter.

“He doesn’t usually do that, you know,” Haizaki pointed out, sneer slicing up his mouth.

Aomine started getting even more distracted by Kise on his back, the light flush on his cheeks he was trying to stop, and Haizaki’s words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Haizaki shrugged. “Dunno.”

Aomine narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but the elevator dinged and slid open. “We’re getting off here,” Haizaki said, stepping out and keeping a hand on the door, that knowing grin still on his face.

Aomine huffed, following Haizaki out of the elevator. They turned right at the hall and walked to a door on the far end, Haizaki pulling out a set of keys and unlocking the door. He held it open for Aomine and closed it behind them, slipping past Aomine as he toed off his shoes.

Haizaki clicked the lights open as he stepped out of the doorway, barely giving time for Aomine to take in his surroundings. It was a spacious unit, with wooden floor tiles and off-white walls and furniture, everything light, warm and pastel, with small accents of brown. It wasn’t overly-glamorous or opulent, but it looked befitting of a celebrity, and more so of Kise. Aomine could imagine Kise sitting on that couch by the living room, in front of the large TV, and fall asleep in the middle of a movie. He could see Kise walking barefoot on his carpets to get to the fridge in the kitchen, and eat a bowl of cheap cereal over the island counter.

“You can just lay him down on the bed,” Haizaki told him, turning the lights on the bedroom.

As he followed Haizaki into the room, Aomine noticed the large windows by the wall, the curtains drawn, and he could imagine Kise pulling those curtains open to welcome the sunlight, as if he were competing with its brightness; or to gaze out into the night sky as if he were a star that it missed.

Aomine turned his back to the side of the bed, slowly easing Kise to sit on it. He brought his hands to his neck, where Kise still had his arms wrapped around it, and tugged his arms loose. Aomine shifted to bring his arm around Kise’s waist, momentarily reveling in his trim body, feeling like a perfect fit in his arm, just as he’d felt when he’d caught Kise after getting attacked by the celebrity. He shook his head and lightly lowered Kise further into his arm, sliding his other hand underneath Kise’s knees, and gently lifted him up, just a little off of the bed. Kise shifted slightly, his head lolling towards Aomine’s chest, and Aomine just paused for a moment, glancing down at the damned sleeping _princess_ in his arms, eyelashes fluttering and lips slightly parted as he breathed, and Aomine was torn with just keeping him there a bit longer or just throwing him to the middle of his huge-ass bed.

Aomine grumbled a small sigh, then bent to lay Kise down towards the center of his bed, Haizaki swiftly pulling the blanket to one side. Aomine brought him down as softly as possible, watching Kise’s head rest on the pillow with a quiet fluff, his hair falling down over his eyes. Without really thinking, Aomine brought his fingers over the strands, brushing the hair away from Kise’s face, and flinched back when he realized what he was doing, blinking in confusion. To the side, Haizaki was observing with a serious and thoughtful expression, then turned away.

“Can you handle his clothes? I just need to fix some stuff around,” Haizaki said, glancing at Aomine.

“Huh?” Aomine tore his eyes away from Kise with a start.

Haizaki tossed a clump of clothes at Aomine, who caught them without pause. “Get him changed?”

Aomine looked from the clothes in his hands to Haizaki, then to Kise, then back. “Seriously?”

Haizaki shrugged, a corner of his lips curving up. “You _did_ say he’s a damn princess.”

Aomine frowned, snorting. “Damn right he is.” But he reached for Kise’s clothes anyway, grabbing the celebrity’s phones from his pockets first and handing them to Haizaki, who smirked as he toggled with one of them to shut off Kise’s alarm for the next day. He set it on the bedside table and trudged to close the curtains.

Aomine was cursing under his breath when he’d moved to Kise’s pants, tugging them off with more expedience than care, revealing Kise’s expensive-looking boxers. He briefly squinted at the brand and stood away with a huff, trying not to think about how he’d just fucking stripped Kise and dressed him in his pajama shirt.

“There are pajama pants too,” Haizaki said, holding back a snicker.

“Fuck the damn pajama pants, he can go sleep in his boxers,” Aomine snapped, grumbling as he reached for the blankets, tugging it over the fucking sleeping beauty with a grunt.

KIse was deep asleep, completely knocked out, and Aomine couldn’t find it in himself to stay irritated at the damn _princess_ , just watching him have such a peaceful and restful sleep.

_Goodnight, sleeping beauty._

He let out a big huff, rolling his shoulders back, and turned to leave, Haizaki letting out a small snigger as he followed, turning off the bedroom lights behind him. He quietly closed the bedroom door and walked out to find Aomine tapping at his phone, standing in front of a mound of flowers and gifts and bags of letters on one of the couches.

“These all fan stuff?” Aomine asked without turning.

“Most of them,” Haizaki replied, going around Aomine to the coffee table by the couch. Envelopes and papers were strewn all over it, the pile bigger than Haizaki remembered, and he stopped himself from trying to rearrange them—Ryouta would go back to them later, anyway. “Some of the gifts are from sponsors and showbiz people and shit, but all the letters are from fans. Ryouta reads them in his spare time, as you can see.”

“Hmph,” Aomine huffed, bringing his phone to his ear. “Always overworking, that princess.”

Haizaki shrugged, pulling the window curtains by the walls closed. “Always working hard,” he said absentmindedly, still thoughtful about how Aomine had handled Kise from the car to his bedroom, and how he’d just waited until Kise fell asleep, knowing that they wouldn’t end up watching movies together. Aomine spent more time lending Kise his shoulder to sleep on and carrying him to his room than actually _doing_ things together. They’d even stopped chatting at one point in the ride to just eat, but everything seemed completely fine to Aomine either way. Haizaki spared a glance at the basketball player, a slight wrinkle in his brow as he pondered over what to think of Aomine’s behavior.

“Satsuki?” Aomine said into his phone, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m at Kise’s place. Of _course_ I know how to get back—”

Haizaki gave up thinking about it with a shrug, moving to Kise’s laptop and finding that he’d been browsing at some of the latest sports news from abroad. Haizaki almost snorted, smirking, then folded the laptop closed.

“Listen, Satsuki,” Aomine said, in the middle of pinching the bridge of his nose. He straightened up, squaring his shoulders back. “I’ll do it. Accept the offer.”

Haizaki blinked over at him, curious. Aomine sighed, as if in defeat, like he should have known he was going to lose that particular battle.

“Yes, the fucking cameo. I’ll do the cameo in Kise’s drama.”

 

[tbc]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please refer to [this](https://40.media.tumblr.com/9d74fa3d7c32df4ebfc908bf3a358435/tumblr_mnhoy6fyLv1rj6kufo1_500.jpg) for the old Teiko photo Aomine stumbled on online (those fangirls are amazing, huh)  
> Hit me up on kittlekrattle.tumblr.com if you want to chat! I reply faster over on there :)


	7. Right on Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, even if Aominecchi was involved. 
> 
> It _shouldn’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update might not be for a while, but it will happen eventually! Thanks always for the wonderful people who leave kudos and comments, they really pump up my motivation to write ♥︎

_His chest hurt. It was painful to breathe, like Kise’s lungs were starved of air and inhaled it like it was made of shards of glass. There was a throbbing in his legs and a muted pain coursing down his hips to his feet, but he wasn’t shaking. Kise panted in small gasps, but his heart warmed his chest with a familiar feeling he’d both missed and didn’t want to feel, an exhilaration he would never tire of that fueled his veins with_ life _._

_(Ah, damn it.)_

_He exhaled a shaky breath, trembling just as much as the energy coursing through him. He was drenched in sweat, gasping at air, and there was a sun blazing just a few feet away from him and he was a moon drunk on its light._

_(He’s so freaking cool._

_The absolute style that no one can copy…)_

_He was wearing black and his skin was dark and he was the picture of the vast night sky, but Kise could only see a brilliant sun, and the light was almost blinding but he couldn’t look away. It was impossible for the moon to not be dazzled by the sun._

_(Once you look up to someone, you can’t overtake them.)_

_And he would breathe in that light, feel it move his limbs and anchor his heart._

_But the moon’s light is only a copy of the sun’s._

_(While I wished to win,_

_I also wished he wouldn’t lose.)_

_It hurt. His chest, his body, his heart. It hurt but he was happy. The future was a blurry world of uncertainty, and it was thrilling. He was bathing in the light of that brilliant sun, and he was_ burning _but he felt_ alive. _He could only get so close before being set aflame, but he would drink in that light, that power. He would take anything he could get, get scorched with the heat of that fierce and tremendous sun, and blaze on his own._

_(I’ll give up on looking up to him.)_

 

#

 

The room was dim, everything cast in shadow as the daylight tried to peek inside. Kise opened his eyes, slowly blinking awake, and sighed against his pillow, relishing in the softness of his sheets snugly wrapped around him. He blinked a few more times and took a deep breath, releasing it in a long, satisfied exhale. He slowly started to push himself to sit up, stretching his body, then slung his legs over the edge of the bed. Kise quickly rearranged his sheets and pillows and made his bed, hopping off of it to step in front of his windows and draw the curtains open, greeting the new day.

Kise stretched his arms upwards, then brought them down with a huff. He smiled at the sun, not too high above the horizon yet, and nodded in approval. He felt calm and well-rested and ready to tackle the day, so he rolled his shoulders a couple of times and stepped out of his bedroom.

The moment he walked out of the door, the smell of bacon being cooked flittered into his nose and straight to his stomach. The appetizing sound of the frying pan sizzling the meat practically made Kise’s mouth water, and the sound of the toaster dinging once made his feet move on its own, taking him to the dining room in no time.

As suspected, it was bacon and toast, with a bowl of rice on the side garnished with a glistening egg, everything still steaming and fresh. There was a small bowl of chopped fruits on the side and a glass of juice near it, and behind the kitchen stove, Haizaki was finishing up with cooking an extra helping of bacon.

“You’re up,” Haizaki said, spotting Kise. “Right on time.”

“Shougo…” Kise muttered, glancing from the food to Haizaki. He blinked twice and shook his head awake. “Good morning.” He smiled, small and bright.

Haizaki couldn’t help the small upward curl of a corner of his lips. “Morning,” he greeted. “Sit down, I’m almost done.”

Kise gave a small nod, rubbing his eye sleepily. Haizaki tore his eyes away to focus on the food he was cooking—the fact that Kise could be so unreasonably attractive no matter the situation infuriated Haizaki to no end. It was no wonder the guy was a model: his face alone could horde cash and admirers in the thousands. Sometimes Haizaki glared daggers at the billboards Kise was on, and had these urges to just vandalize them a little, keep other people from seeing his stupid face. Sometimes, much like that morning, Haizaki was torn with either shoving a hand over Kise’s face and just mashing it, hoping in vain to rearrange the features somehow; or just doing whatever it takes to see him smile. He turned off the stove and deposited the fresh bacons on a plate, finding himself doing the latter.

Kise’s face lit up a few hundred watts, his smile widening as Haizaki set his food down in front of him. Haizaki huffed, pulled off his apron, and moved to wash his hands by the sink. Kise uttered a cheery “ _Itadakimasu!_ ” and picked up his bowl to eat.

After a few munches, Kise’s face was the picture of bliss. “You suck,” Kise told him, stuffing his face. “Why do you cook so good.”

Haizaki snorted, flopping down on the seat across Kise. “You say that every time I cook for you.”

“’Cause it’s true,” Kise pouted, and Haizaki wanted to throw something at the cute face. “And it’s been a while since you’ve cooked for me, so.”

“ _’A while’?_ I made you breakfast last week,” Haizaki pointed out, brows knitting.

“That’s a while!” Kise defended. “You used to cook for me more often! I mean that’s how you—”

“ _Okay_ shut up,” Haizaki snapped, jerking his head away. “You’ve been having those godforsaken early ass shoots and shit is why. I’ll cook you dinner instead.”

Kise brought his eyes up at Haizaki, sparkling with so much appreciation and gratefulness that Haizaki almost flinched. “ _Dinner_ ,” Kise cooed. “I miss your unbelievably delicious dinners, you bastard.”

Haizaki covered his face with his hand. “Goddammit Ryouta,” he muttered, trying to control his blood flow somehow. “Just eat your breakfast.”

Kise chuckled, chowing down on his food. Haizaki contented himself with resting an elbow on the table, leaning his cheek into his palm, and just watching as Kise ate. Haizaki had always cooked his own food—way before middle school, even—ever since his mom started coming home far too late in the night. It had always been pretty soothing to cook, and if he was going to eat his cooking anyway he at least wanted it to taste _good_. Cooking for _someone_ _else_ was something he wasn’t used to, at least until Ryouta. It had become a habit before he realized it, and even then he would still feel that same warmth in his chest whenever Ryouta would just gorge down his food and tell Haizaki how good it is. Up until the end of high school, it had never really occurred to him how the rather mundane skill could save him so much, even now.

“Here,” Kise spoke, lifting up a piece of bacon to Haizaki’s face.

Haizaki raised an eyebrow at Kise, but before he could say anything, Kise made a face and nudged the piece forward. Haizaki sighed and bit the bacon off, and he held back on snorting when Kise snickered and held up another piece.

“I can eat later,” Haizaki grumbled, frowning at Kise’s stupid model face, still eating the offered food anyway.

“When you cook me dinner it has to be enough for two, okay?” Kise said firmly, finishing his meal and moving to eat the fruits. “It feels weird to be the only one eating.”

“I live to make you feel uncomfortable,” Haizaki responded easily.

Kise snorted at him. “Mmhmm.”

“Like for example,” Haizaki started, the beginnings of a sneer curling up at his lips. “Do you have any idea why you’re just in a shirt and boxers?”

Kise froze, slowly looking down at his legs, which lacked anything but his underwear.

“Or how you somehow woke up in your bed?” Haizaki continued, the impish smile wider now. “And if you maybe forgot something?”

Kise looked back up at Haizaki, eyes wide. He swallowed his food, then proceeded to gape at him, mind suddenly kicking into third gear.

“Or rather,” Haizaki said, completely evil. “ _Someone?_ ”

“Oh my god,” Kise breathed, dropping his chopsticks. “ _Aominecchi._ ”

“Bingo,” Haizaki cheered mockingly. “Ten points for Mr. A-List Celebrity.”

“Fuck,” Kise gaped, his jaw ajar and his cheeks going pink. “I fell asleep again, didn’t I?”

“Another ten points for Kise Ryouta!” Haizaki jeered.

“ _Fucking_ —did he _carry_ me up here?”

“Ohh! You’re _on a roll_.”

“To my _bed?_ ”

“Wow Ryouta, you’re on _fire_ today.”

Kise slammed his palms on the table. “ _Did Aominecchi change my clothes?_ ”

Haizaki made a dinging sound, pointing a finger at Kise with a wink. “And Ryouta wins this round!”

Kise buried his face in his hands, feeling much like crawling back into his bed and just getting eaten by it. “Just let me melt and die.”

Haizaki plucked out a grape from Kise’s fruits, enjoying the sight of Kise’s suffering while he could. “Sure, after your ten o’clock appointment maybe. Or maybe after your interview in the afternoon, you can announce your expiration there. Give your fans an advance notice, you know.”

Kise bent over until his head hit the edge of the table, and Haizaki shrugged as he took the rest of Kise’s fruits as a snack to the amusing show of Kise Ryouta’s Embarrassment, snickering all the while.

After a few moments of Kise contemplating his life and inner death, he shot up, pulling his hands off of his still beet red face. “I have to find him.”

“Try putting on some pants first. After taking a shower,” Haizaki suggested, dumping the rest of the fruits in his mouth. The tips of Kise’s ears went pink and he glared at him, then grabbed his juice and drank it all up to cool his head.

“Thanks for the meal,” Kise muttered, unbuttoning his shirt as he trudged to the bathroom. He glanced to a clock on a drawer and briefly registered the time, and Haizaki counted to three before Kise promptly screamed, “ _Gaaah! Shougo!_ ”

“What.”

“It’s this late already?!” Kise spun around to yell at Haizaki, the front of his shirt falling open to show his bare torso. Haizaki wanted to punch his exposed stomach. “Did you turn off my alarm?”

“Yep,” Haizaki answered, heaving himself off of his seat to busy himself with washing the dishes, something he deemed more productive and civilized than wanting to grab Kise and maybe throwing him somewhere. Like out the window. “You set it way too damn early again,” Haizaki grumbled, shooting Kise a look over his shoulder. “You need to catch up on sleep, or else you’ll keep falling asleep on Daiki.”

Kise grimaced, deflating just a bit. His frown turned into a pout, which Haizaki elected to ignore. Kise grumbled something incoherent, a confused jumble of suppressed angry grunts. “Hrngh… _Fine_. Thanks, I guess.”

“Sure thing, superstar,” Haizaki called out, a small smirk on his lips. Behind him, he heard Kise huff irritably, then plod into the bathroom and shut the door lightly.

Haizaki counted to eight before he heard Kise loudly wail from inside the showers, “ _Shougooo~_ ”

“I got it, I got it, geez.” Haizaki sighed, grabbing an unopened bottle of shampoo on the island counter and going for Kise’s towel and robe as he walked to the bathroom, mentally preparing himself for the idiot-celebrity’s stupid face.

He knocked once out of some misplaced sense of courtesy. “It’s unlocked,” Kise called from inside. (Of course it was unlocked.) Haizaki grumbled under his breath and let himself in, walking to hang the towel and robe on the wall next to the showers, trying to avoid glancing at Kise’s silhouette behind the smoked glass.

“I’ll just put ‘em here,” Haizaki grunted, unable to ignore the said silhouette in the corner of his vision.

The shower door slid open just a little, allowing Kise’s head to pop out from the gap. “Thanks, Shougo,” he said, one hand on the edge of the door.

Haizaki turned, half against his will, and half against his better judgment, and partially because he had to. Of _course_ Kise was already drenched, golden hair sticking to his smooth fair skin, the tapering of his waist visible from how he peeked out the shower. He still had faint traces of his earlier blush tinting his cheeks with color, lips glistening with moist and droplets of water shivering on his long lashes like dewdrops on grass.

“Yeah sure,” Haizaki responded with a curt nod, mouth pressed into a hard line. Daiki’s little moniker popped in his head and rolled out of his mouth unbidden, releasing some of the tenseness in his shoulders and lips as he handed Kise his shampoo. “Princess.”

Kise pouted, cheeks puffing up like a damn child. He flicked his head up, nose upturned in a brief snort of petulance. Haizaki couldn’t help a small snicker sneak past his throat, and he turned away to leave, but not before catching the small upward tug of a corner of Kise’s lips as he retreated back into the shower.

Haizaki sighed as the sound of spraying water turned back on behind him, and he chanced a glance at the mirror to make sure he didn’t look as stupid and annoyed as he felt. His brows were just a little wrinkled and his expression just _slightly_ stupid, so it wasn’t a complete failure, at least. He turned away before his reflection could change, his grip on the doorknob a bit too tight as he twisted it. He mentally cursed, feeling a surge of irritation at himself for the stupid way his stomach was fluttering and the loud thumping of his heart. And it’s been years, he’s more or less gotten used to it, but it never stopped making him feel so goddamn _stupid_.

Haizaki stepped out of the bathroom, ignoring the blood crawling up his face and the warmth it brought down to his chest against his drumming heart; and he made sure to lock the door behind him as he returned to the kitchen.

 

#

 

Over the years, Kise had developed the practice of ticking down the things he has to do for the day, mentally running over each task and meeting so that he’d always be appropriately prepared. Rika would quiz both Kise and Haizaki about every day’s schedule, making them rattle off each appointment, the time it was set to happen, and the people involved. They would owe her a penalty fee whenever they got something wrong or forgot, and Haizaki had almost ripped his wallet in half with how much he was losing because of it. Eventually, he and Kise spent dinners and breakfasts and car rides together reciting (read: yelling) the day’s schedule at each other until it became as natural as remembering to eat three meals a day. They’d developed the ability to remember each scheduled event and activity, put names to the many faces they encountered during work, remember all the important people and who’s involved with who, the rivalries and competition, what was supposedly trending, and then some. It had taken a while, and Haizaki had avoided popping a vein from the frustration more times than he’d liked, but they learned. Their memory became stellar, and something they could be rather proud of—though whenever they’d be reminded of how great their memorization skills had become, they’d grumble about how it would have saved them a lot of stress back when they were in school, especially when competing in games depended on their grades.

When they’d brush those thoughts off, albeit bitterly, everything ended up working out for them for the better. Haizaki had developed immaculate patience (by Haizaki standards, at least) and had become bodyguard-slash-assistant-manager: more involved with Kise’s career than just simply being his bodyguard with a salary raise that made nearly getting broke for the job worth it.

On the other hand, Kise eventually learned to remember a whole week’s worth of work, and going through the bullet points in his head proved to be an almost relaxing stress reliever, despite all those points being partially to blame for the said stress. It felt like simple steps on a set of stairs, just a level up each time he’d finish each one. Every time he’d cross out an item in that schedule, Kise would get a feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction, like a small win for finishing that level. It was a secret feeling that he was playing a game, but it was also work—practically his life already, a part of it just as much as his brain and heart and were. And even though that was the case, work was also distracting. It demanded a lot of focus and attention, and Kise was glad it took his mind off of whatever personal problems and issues he had.

Most of the time, at least.

But it was easy for Kise’s mind to wander, back to his past, his decisions; back to the previous day where he’d sat beside Aominecchi in the backseat of his car, eating fast food like how they did in front of Maji Burger, and how Kise magically found himself waking up in his own bed the next day, just like that. With a grimace, he felt the guilt gurgle in the pit of his stomach. He should have _known_ he’d conk out like a damn idiot in the car—heck, it was pretty amazing he didn’t fall asleep within the first five minutes of the ride, even.

Kise groaned, and it was the fifth time he did that ever since getting to the parking lot.

“Shut up, Ryouta,” Haizaki barked at him, glancing around the streets as he drove.

Kise frowned, elbows perched on the backrest of the front seats—he’d practically been groaning in Haizaki’s ear for the past five minutes. He bumped his head with a small groan to the side of Haizaki’s, making the bodyguard jerk in surprise. “ _Fuck_ Ryouta _quit it_ your hair’s making me itchy,” Haizaki snapped, veering the car to the left.

Kise sighed, grunting ruefully. He tilted his head away from Haizaki’s, resting his cheek on his arm. He started muttering his schedule for the day. “Pass by Aominecchi’s and apologize, go to the fashion show rehearsals—review program flow and confirm fitting schedules—move to IG Studios for the tour of their new sets, confirm training and rehearsal schedules with Kisaragi-san, go to the—”

“We’re here,” Haizaki announced, pulling up to the entrance of a condo.

Kise stiffened, his train of thought completely crashing. He peeked up at the building looming above them, where Aominecchi was supposed to be staying in, and swallowed, feeling his guilt creep back up as he grimaced.

“Are you gonna go or what?” Haizaki said, glaring at Kise. “’Cause if not then I’m driving you to—”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Kise wailed, shoving himself away from the front seats. He groaned for the nth time, making Haizaki roll his eyes, and Kise pushed open the door and stepped out the car.

“Good luck,” Haizaki said from inside, window rolled down to stare at Kise with an ill-concealed expression of amusement.

Kise frowned at him, putting on a cap. “You’re not coming with me?”

“You think you’ll get attacked or something?” Haizaki raised a brow. “You need me to keep you from chickening out? Or maybe hold your hand?”

“Ugh shut up, I get it, you douche,” Kise said, grumpy.

Haizaki snickered. “I’ll just park somewhere, alright? I’ll follow after. Just go so that we’re not fucking wasting time. You’re lucky this place was on the way.”

Kise’s expression softened, and he exhaled through his nose, giving a small nod. “Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t try acting your way out of it, superstar,” Haizaki said last, driving away and leaving a pouting Kise behind.

Kise huffed, forcing his feet to move and enter the building, going straight for the elevators and making sure not to draw attention to himself. He pulled out his phone to check Momoicchi’s message about where Aominecchi was staying, even though he’d already committed it to memory. He almost jumped when the elevator dinged open, grumbling under his breath as he stepped inside, thankful that it was empty.

Kise fidgeted with his hands and phone on the way up, and he _did_ jump when the elevator dinged again, doors sliding open. He ran a hand over his face, telling himself to get his shit together, and walked into a hall. He scanned every door plate and said, “Dammit,” out loud when the room he was looking for appeared almost immediately, just after a few doors. He checked his phone again to make sure, and glanced up at the number on the door. Momoicchi’s information matched, and Kise started thinking that maybe he should have texted Aominecchi first, told him he was going to visit, or maybe he should have brought some kind of gift or something—Kise shook his head. No, the first thing he decided to do was talk to him as soon as possible, and he was always the kind of guy to go through with whatever he’s set out to do, even if his own mind was trying to confuse him. He sucked in a breath, ignoring his nervously thumping heart and the flutters in his stomach, and brought his hand up to the doorbell before he could think twice about it.

Kise waited, eyelids sliding closed as he rearranged his expression, calming his twitchy features. He was an _actor_ , dammit, he could at least put on a better face that didn’t make him look like a stupid guilty idiot. He’s a damn adult already and he was going to act like one, but Kise almost couldn’t help the small wrinkle of his brow when the image of Aominecchi popped up in his head. Aominecchi getting mad, or waving Kise off and losing any desire to hang out with him anymore. Aominecchi greeting him and smiling and sticking his warm hand in Kise’s hair, smiling like a dork with a mouth full of burger—

Kise slapped himself, eyes jolting open with a start. He stared at the space between him and the door with wide, confused eyes, thinking a very solid “ _What the hell?_ ” in his even more jumbled up mind. He shook his head again and let out a decisive huff, straightening up to face the door. After a few beats, the thought that maybe Aominecchi was still asleep crossed his mind—what if he was waking him up from proper jetlag-free sleep? He’d probably be pissed at him, or ignore him altogether, and KIse would be the most insensitive prick ever, falling asleep when he shouldn’t and disturbing someone else’s shut-eye. Kise groaned, bumping his head on the door in defeat.

_“Coming!”_

Kise jumped, jerking away from the door with a start. _Did he hear that right?_ He brought his ear close to the door and heard some muffled thumping from inside. His heart started doing some flips again, and he stepped back to try to square his shoulders and smother his nervous frown.

(In any normal situation, he would have noticed that the voice he heard from inside didn’t sound quite right, but his brain was still whirling and his stomach was doing a set of cartwheels to go with his heart’s flips.)

“ _Sorry!_ ” came a call from inside. _“I’ll be right there, just—”_

Kise held off on answering “ _It’s alright, take your time,_ ” as if he were saving words in his mouth or else he’d run out of them when he needed them later.

It was just then that Kise noticed how something was off. He would have expected to start bouncing in place upon hearing Aominecchi respond, to feel his heart beat harder at the sound of his deep voice. But it was just then that he realized that the voice that had called from inside _didn’t_ sound like Aominecchi. Kise’s brow wrinkled in thought, not quite putting together what that was supposed to mean.

(Kise would have been able to recognize that voice, to put a name and a face to it that he’d easily pair with the brighter and more boyish voice. He would have, if he weren’t so distracted about seeing Aominecchi again so soon.)

He started hearing some more muffled sounds from inside, like stifled growling and maybe some thuds that sounded like stomping or wrestling. For a moment Kise realized quite stupidly and rather belatedly that it was _someone else_ inside, and he panicked. Did he get the wrong room? He’d checked the information more times than he’d willingly admit, and Momoicchi didn’t like giving out false information, not like that.

Kise started unconsciously backing away from the door, but he froze when he heard that not-Aominecchi voice growl, _“Oi, Aomine, get your ass into some damn pants already, dammit,”_ followed by Aominecchi’s voice grumbling in response (and Kise _did_ bounce in place upon hearing it).

Kise suddenly felt like he’d been electrocuted into the ground, soldering his feet solidly onto the tile beneath him. Okay, so he _did_ get the right room. But then someone else was in there with Aominecchi, who was apparently lacking pants. Okay. An unexpected development, but Kise was used to getting surprised, especially on national television. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, even if Aominecchi was involved.

It _shouldn’t_.

Before Kise could rearrange his thoughts, try to come up with various possible responses he could fall back on while his eyes darted around to check for escape routes (not that he was going to escape, Kise told himself), he heard footsteps approaching—large strides, by the sound of them, with how few they were and how quickly they’d come to the door—and a quick “ _Yes—?_ ” before the door swung open.

And Kise was met with not-Aominecchi: a man his height who was wearing no shirt and a pair of sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips, just low enough to be considered illegal, probably. He had pretty fair skin—just a little more sun-kissed than Kise’s, but definitely nowhere near as tanned as Aominecchi—and had a strong build like Aominecchi, muscles defined from the robust curves of his shoulders and biceps, the angled line of his hips, and the firm cut of his abs. (It was a basketball player’s build, but that didn’t occur to Kise as soon as it should have.)

Atop all that was a shock of red hair, and Kise’s eyes locked with similarly red ones that grew wide upon seeing Kise, the eyebrows over them stark lines on his face that Kise was all too familiar with, and really should have noticed and recognized first.

“Oh—” came his voice, and a ways behind him, Kise spotted Aominecchi stumbling into a pair of pants and glancing at the door.

“ _Kise?_ ” Aominecchi said immediately.

And Kise was too surprised to control the light flush that crept up his cheeks, his eyes going from Aominecchi to the man at Aominecchi’s door, standing half-naked with an expression of recognition that grew into a bright smile directed at Kise.

“Whoa, Kise! Hey!” he said, pleasantly surprised.

Kise blinked owlishly, unable to mask the open shock on his face. “ _Kagamicchi?!_ ”

 

[tbc]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also over at kittlekrattle.tumblr.com if anyone wants to chat or ask questions~


	8. See You Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well I hope you realize it soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! Real life stuff's piling up again, so chapters will probably come every other week, but always expect them to update on weekends! Thank you for everyone's kudos and comments and support! You're all awesome.
> 
> Also to those who'd like to chat or ask questions, you can message me on my tumblr (kittlekrattle). I won't, however, answer anon questions that are spoiler-y! (And I'll answer off-anon messages privately, most of the time). Hope you understand!

Most of the time, when Kise was faced with a complicated situation, his mind would go on hyper-speed, processing everything as if time was slowed down. Reacting to a double clutch, or a pass, or a feint, or getting confronted with a tricky interview question or a surprise on live TV—they were all a matter of quick thinking and reflexes that Kise had learned to take on over the years. He’d be able to move his body, change his expression, come up with words, and simply _react_ in all the right ways no matter the situation.

Except, apparently, when Aomine was involved.

Usually Kise would be able to think, to process what’s going on before he’d allow his body to move or his mouth to speak. But ever since practically attacking Aomine with a hug and losing that bet some days ago, Kise found himself acting on impulse around Aomine more often than he’d normally like, or his mind suddenly malfunctioning somehow—just like how it blanked out and froze Kise, right in front of the half-naked Kagami, a similarly shirtless Aomine in the room behind him.

“Long time no see!” Kagami beamed, swinging the door fully open. “How’ve you been?”

Kise blinked at him, still gaping and trying not to let his eyes roam. He coughed dryly. “Long time no see…” he said. Kise swallowed and tried to snap out of shock. “I’m fine? What about you? Were you and Aominecchi, um...”

Kagami cocked his head to one side, raising an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Kise averted his gaze for a moment, eyes widening as he tried to push his mind back into motion. “Er, did I…interrupt something…?” Kise muttered. His eyes widened further and he jerked his head back up to meet Kagami’s eyes. “I mean—sorry for barging in! I’ll just come by another ti—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kagami held a hand up, his own eyes widening a fraction. “ _‘Interrupt’?_ You didn’t—”

“It’s nothing!” Kise blurted, trying to keep his eyes on Kagami’s but getting distracted by Aomine moving towards them. “I’ll just come back again—”

“No wait,” Kagami brought a hand down on Kise’s shoulder to stop him. Kise involuntarily flinched, and Kagami pulled his hand back as if he’d been burnt. For a moment, Kagami was confused (behind him, Aomine noticed, brows wrinkling just a little at that almost natural aversion he kept seeing on Kise), then blinked back in topic. “I think you’re misunderstanding something.”

For some reason, Kise _wanted_ to believe that he was misunderstanding. Heck, his brain was barely even processing what he was seeing, but he knew that he didn’t want to assume the easiest conclusion one could get to when you see two half-dressed guys staying in the same place that had just _one_ bed, and catching one of those guys just barely slipping into some pants behind the other.

“What do you mean?” Kise said, eyes sliding to look off to one side. “You two were obviously busy—” _What am I_ saying _?_

“Wait a minute, _wait,_ ” Aomine stepped behind Kagami, putting a hand on his shoulder to shove Kagami to the side and look at Kise, who made an effort not to pay close attention to how they both weren’t wearing shirts. “ _Kise._ It’s not what you think.”

“Hm?” Kise’s eyes were wide, almost in panic, as he kept staring off to the side. “No it’s okay, you don’t have to explain—”

“Fuck no,” Aomine snapped, ignoring the grumbling Kagami he’d squished to the other side of the doorframe. He put a hand on Kise’s shoulder and ignored the way Kise tensed under his palm (Aomine couldn’t help but notice that Kise didn’t _flinch_ , at least). He leveled a straight gaze at Kise, and waited until Kise’s eyes flickered to meet his and somehow get locked in them. “Kise. Kagami and I aren’t fucking.”

Both Kise and Kagami jerked as if they’d been electrocuted, eyes widening and cheeks flushing almost identically. “ _Wha—_ ” Kagami spluttered, shoving Aomine.

Kise’s brain short-circuited. “Wh— _of course you’re not_ —I mean, that’s not what I was thinking at all?! _Uh_ —” Kise stammered, one foot tentatively stepping back, as if to escape.

“You were totally thinking that,” Aomine sighed, staring flatly at Kise.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” Kagami flailed, pushing forward to level a panicked pink face at Kise. “Kise. _Kise._ Aomine and I aren’t—why would you even—” then Kagami noticed how Aomine was just as shirtless as he was, and that maybe Kise had heard him tell Aomine to get into pants, and how it was early in the morning; and all the pieces seemed to fit in Kagami’s head. “Kise, I swear to god Aomine and I aren’t—”

“Yeah Kise,” Aomine butt in, stepping back lazily, pointing at Kagami. “This guy’s so fucking head over heels for Tetsu you don’t even—”

“ _AAAHH AHO!_ ” Kagami screamed, tackling Aomine and clamping hands over his mouth. ” _Shut up, oh my god._ ”

Kise’s eyes widened. “Kagamicchi likes Kurokocchi?”

“ _NO,_ ” Kagami snapped, his hand securely clamped over Aomine’s mouth as Aomine struggled to break free. “I mean of course I like him but—”

“No he doesn’t _like_ Tetsu,” Aomine blurt out when he pulled Kagami’s hands off of his face. “He’s fucking _in love_ with him.”

“I swear to god Ahomine _shut up,_ ” Kagami continued shoving his hand over Aomine’s face, half-wrestling with him with a completely red face.

Kise’s eyebrows were still climbing ever higher on his face. _Kagamicchi likes Kurokocchi?_ He wasn’t denying it and his face was beet red and Aomine wasn’t even joking—

And somehow, for some reason, Kise felt _relieved_. He didn’t know why, didn’t _understand_ why, but the wave of relief that settled his flipping stomach felt very real and very weird.

“But—why are you at Aominecchi’s place, Kagamicchi?” Kise couldn’t help but ask.

“Huh? ‘ _Aomine’s’_?” Kagami stopped, and Aomine smacked Kagami’s arms away with a grunt. “This is _my_ place. Aomine’s the damn freeloader here.”

“Eh?” Kise blinked stupidly.

“Coach got me to let Aomine stay at my place instead of a hotel to be safe about his, uh…” Kagami trailed off, his split eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“Kise knows,” Aomine supplied, sighing and crossing his arms over his chest. Kise couldn’t help but notice how Aomine leaned on the side of the doorframe, wearing that signature scowl and no shirt, his chest and biceps more pronounced with his crossed arms, and Kise really _did_ see how much more bulked up Aomine had become.

“Oh, you do?” Kagami straightened up, his blush just barely fading. “Well yeah, it’s so that there’s less of a chance of people finding out about his injury. And I’d rather stay at my own place? I just flew in from America last night. Aomine’s the mooch.”

Aomine snorted at Kagami, completely haughty. Despite himself, Kise snorted too, chuckling under his breath. He felt _relieved_. His heart had calmed and his stomach settled, and his brain seemed to have snapped back into proper consciousness, finally letting him notice how Aomine’s hair was wet, some beads of water sticking to the ends of spiky locks and dotting his skin. He’d likely just gotten out of the shower and walked out in just his boxers the same way he did when Kise had slept over. Beside him, Kagami’s hair was tousled in all directions, his bedhead almost as wild as Kuroko’s.

“What are you doing here, anyway,” Aomine piped up, head cocked to one side in a disturbingly attractive way. “Aren’t you super busy or something?”

“Ah,” Kise straightened up, arms going rigid at his sides. “I’m sorry for yesterday!” he said, bending at the waist to bow at Aomine. “Sorry for falling asleep even after inviting you to watch movies.”

Aomine stiffened backwards, blinking down at Kise with a half-panicked expression. “It’s no big deal, geez,” he said, uncrossing his arms. “I sort of expected you’d fall asleep, so it’s fine.”

Kise looked up at Aomine, brows furrowed. “You expected I’d fall asleep?”

“With that ridiculous schedule of yours, yes,” Aomine sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

Kise slowly straightened up to his height, his mind slowing down again. “So why did you…” he said, not quite understanding what it meant for Aomine to have expected that.

“Hm?” Aomine leaned forward to hear.

Kise wanted to jerk back, but somehow couldn’t, his eyes locking with navy blue ones. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, dammit,” Aomine sighed.

Kise stared for a moment, then let out a breath, feeling as if all his worries were just flecks of dust that were easily blown away by Aomine’s expression. His guilt still clung to him, just a little, and Kise wanted to stay and just _talk_ , just catch up. It felt like Kise didn’t have nearly enough time to spend with him until Aomine had to go back to America, and then Kise would—

…what _would_ Kise feel? What would he _do_ if Aominecchi left? How long would he have to wait until Aomine would want to visit? Aomine didn’t even mean to come this time around—he’d just been injured and had to lay low. And he wasn’t allowed to do anything that could worsen his injury, and to pass the time he’d chosen to hang out with Kise. _Kise_ , of all people, who had the tightest, busiest schedule there could be. He was the _worst_ person to choose to spend time with, and he’d fallen asleep on Aomine _twice_ already, but he didn’t seem that bothered at all.

“H-hey, Aominecchi,” Kise muttered.

“Hm?”

“To make up for it,” Kise said, bringing his eyes back to look at Aomine’s. “I’ll treat you to a drink tonight?” His voice came out steadier than he expected, a different kind of determination lighting up in his chest. A sheepish smile warmed over his face as his body relaxed, and it felt like his hands were going to start shaking so he settled one nervously behind his neck. “I-if you’re free, of course. I swear I won’t fall asleep on the way.”

Aomine stared at him, at those honest amber eyes, feeling like he was looking at a pair of suns that wouldn’t blind you, but dazzle you nonetheless. “Yeah. Sure.”

Kise visibly brightened, and it was like the lights on a basketball arena lighting up, giving Aomine that warmth blooming in his chest that he could only really describe as _life_. Aomine’s heart clenched weirdly, seeing Kise’s honest, relieved smile, and for a moment Aomine’s brows knotted in confusion and annoyance.

“Great!” Kise beamed. He turned to Kagami as if just remembering that he was there. “Sorry about the confusion earlier, Kagamicchi—It’s really great to see you again! Do you want to come with us tonight?”

Kagami blinked owlishly at Kise, eyes flickering to Aomine for a moment, as if Aomine was supposed to give him permission. Kise cocked his head to the side with a small smile, and it was both charming and pretty, and made Kagami self-conscious while Aomine frowned at how he thought that Kise’s face was just _impossible_.  

“Nah, it’s alright!” Kagami answered. “I wouldn’t want to third-wheel.”

Kise raised an eyebrow. “You sure? It’ll be my treat.” _Third-wheel? With Aominecchi and me?_ Kise’s head tilted more to the side in confusion, and Aomine’s frown deepened. It annoyed Aomine to no end how much Kise could look so goddamn attractive in the morning.

“Yeah, thanks for inviting me though,” Kagami smiled. “Besides…” he turned his eyes away, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck as a small flush crept up his cheeks. “I have a thing to go to tonight.”

Kise’s head angled even lower, the tips of his hair almost touching his shoulder. Aomine narrowed his eyes, wondering if Kise just _knew_ what the hell he was doing, with those shining eyes and impeccable hair and stupid face. “What thing?” Kise asked, rocking his head a little. He thought for a moment. “Is it…a date?”

Kagami blinked rapidly, eyes still not looking at Kise. “ _No_ , it’s just—I mean—”

“With Kurokocchi?”

Kagami smiled so wide that the corners of his eyes crinkled, and it was the kind of smile that was pure happiness and sunshine and made the day seem like a great day. He was an open book, face red and delight radiating off of him like a light, and Kise almost giggled at him. “Yeah. I’m gonna have dinner with Tet—Kuroko later.” Kagami was grinning and flustered, and despite himself, Aomine smirked at the stupidly happy expression Kagami wore.

“Good for you, Kagamicchi.” Kise winked, and Kagami flustered even more. “Let’s hang out sometime though!”

“Yeah, been a while since I’ve seen Tetsu,” Aomine said. “But I’ll leave you two alone for your date tonight.”

Kagami’s flush deepened, and he was trying to be annoyed at Aomine but his face was the picture of unshakable happiness. “Shut up, Aho. If you want to come you can come, Kuroko would be happy.”

“Aren’t you just sweet,” Aomine smirked. “Some other time, sure. Wouldn’t want to _third-wheel_.” Before Kagami could react, Aomine continued, grin slicing up his face even wider, “Besides—” he reached for Kise without thinking, and stopped when he saw Kise stiffen just slightly, almost imperceptibly. Aomine redirected his hand to lightly brush some of Kise’s hair away from his eyes instead, his fingers lingering just a little. Kise blinked in mild surprise, feeling heat crawl up at his cheeks as he looked at Aomine smile at him. “—I’ve got a date with a model tonight.”

Kise’s head felt hot, and he was struck by the way Aomine had lightly touched him: his fingers sent shivers through Kise’s skin, like tiny electric sparks that didn’t make him feel like jerking back on impulse, didn’t make Kise recoil at the touch—a reaction that had become practically compulsive to Kise by now. He could still _feel_ where Aomine had barely touched him, and the way that Aomine looked at him, with a soft smile and this _look_ in his eyes—it made Kise’s heart thrash in his chest, and he vaguely registered that to some level, Aomine _knew_ that there was something up; and Kise knew that his expression made it even more obvious that he was hiding something, but for some reason he couldn’t hide much things that easily from Aomine.

Those midnight blue eyes softened, giving Kise a look that said _‘I’m here,’_ and there was a sudden welling of emotion in Kise that widened his eyes and warmed his whole chest, and his heart made a resounding thud when he was hit by a realization that overflowed with the same feelings he was filled with the first time he’d seen Aomine in the basketball gym of Teiko. And back then he was just a middle school student, a teen who’d wished for someone, anyone, to light a fire in him—and Aomine was there like the blazing sun that Kise could only hope to reach, and Kise was filled with a fire he could only really describe as _life_ —and he didn’t understand those feelings, could only translate them into fierce admiration and awe, but now he was older and just a little bit smarter, and he couldn’t form any words in his head but deep down, he _knew_.

“Well aren’t you a lucky bastard,” Kagami said, grinning. He looked happy for Aomine, and his face softened when he saw Kise’s expression. “Speaking of model, you’re everywhere, Kise! You’ve really gotten famous now, huh.”

Kise almost jerked in surprise, blinking out of his daze and tearing his eyes away from Aomine’s (he didn’t know he’d been staring). He chuckled lightly, a bit shakily. “Ah, thanks. It’s been pretty great. Kind of busy, but fun.”

“I heard you were going to be playing Hisanobu!” Kagami perked up, his eyes lighting with open admiration. “That’s damn awesome. I love that series.”

An easy smile spread across Kise’s face, and he was almost grateful for the distraction Kagami gave. “Thanks, Kagamicchi! That’s great to hear.” Kise straightened up and bowed slightly. “Please continue to support Takehiko-sensei and the drama.”

“Ohh,” Kagami smiled, bowing just a little himself. “Of course. Good luck.”

Kise looked up, his smile gentle and gratified. “Thanks! You too.”

“By the way,” Aomine chimed in (Kise felt that warmth flare in his chest again). “Why are we all standing by the doorway.”

“Ah!” Kise exclaimed, and just then he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “I have to get going! I really just came here to apologize.”

“Busy schedule?” Aomine cocked his head to one side.

“Always,” Kise chuckled. “But I have time tonight!”

A corner of Aomine’s lips curled up in that same, boyishly charming way. “See you tonight then, Kise.” He reached over without much thought and tucked a stray clump of Kise’s hair behind an ear.  

Kise’s breath hitched lightly, almost invisibly, and he didn’t sputter or flail like he normally did, which surprised Aomine a little, though not as much as it made him feel pleased. When Aomine drew his hand back, Kise was still looking straight at him, almost making Aomine self-conscious, and a small, almost defeated smile curled up Kise’s lips. “See you,” he said with a nod. Kise pulled out his phone from his pocket, his face lighting up into a brighter smile, a practiced one. “I’ll be going then!” he announced. “Have fun on your date, Kagamicchi!”

Kagami flushed just slightly, but he smiled back. “You too.”

Even if Kise’s smile was a practiced one, the kind of upward curl that meant to be put on for others, he couldn’t help the light flush that finally crawled back up his cheeks. He gave another small bow and smiled a little wider, stepping away and waving as he turned. Kagami waved back and moved to go inside his apartment, and Kise had to force his whole body to turn away when Aomine lingered for a few seconds just watching him go.

When Kise heard the sound of the door closing behind him, he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The loud thumping of his heart that he’d muted started coming back to pump at his ears, and he was just a few steps away from Haizaki when he’d noticed him in the hall.

Kise almost skidded to a sudden stop, startled. “Shougo,” he said absently. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” he answered, tucking his phone into his pocket. He looked at Kise with a serious expression, like he was deep in thought about something he was searching in Kise’s face. It was as if he was finding an answer to something in Kise’s features, seeing how little he was hiding in his expression then. A few beats passed before he exhaled a quiet sigh, turning towards the elevators. “Let’s go.”

Kise looked at him questioningly, but followed. “Okay.”

They stepped into an elevator when it dinged open, and Kise immediately got pulled back into his thoughts when the doors closed. His mind was a muddle of all of his confused feelings and realizations—the way Aomine had noticed Kise’s reaction to contact, the way he’d responded to it by stopping himself and instead brushing a gentle touch to Kise’s cheek; the way Kise felt those warm electric sparks from where he’d been barely touched, and the way Aomine _looked_ at him—everything made Kise’s heart throb with warmth, almost painfully, and it was similar to the first time Kise had seen Aomine play basketball in Teiko, but it was also different. This time, years later, it was as if he was meeting Aomine again, and his feelings all came rushing back like a wave, stronger and clearer, and they were probably the same feelings he first had after encountering Aomine in that gym, but it was just now that he understood what those feelings were.

 

Beside him, Haizaki was observing Kise pensively. Haizaki felt a muffled contentment wash over him at seeing how Kise was behaving, so lost in his own thoughts and emotions. Haizaki huffed, leaning against the back wall of the elevator, and watched how Kise’s hand hovered over the side of his head, where Aomine had touched him. And Aomine had done it in a way that Kise didn’t react negatively to, in a way that made Kise finally realize exactly what Aomine meant to him (or at least, Haizaki _hoped_ Kise finally realized).

Aomine’s fingers had barely brushed Kise’s skin, but he’d touched him more in that one moment than Haizaki ever would, no matter how long he’d stay by Kise’s side. Aomine had done it in a way that made Kise weaker and stronger, brighter and filled with more life—in a way that Haizaki could never hope to copy.

Haizaki sighed in defeat—he never _could_ copy any of those Miracles.

 

#

 

A sharp, double _smack_ resounded by the entrance to a studio, loud enough for the people inside to get startled at. Just by the door, Kise was wincing with his whole face, eyes and nose wrinkled in pain as his older sister pulled her hands back from his cheeks.

“That smack you good enough?” Rika grinned at him.

“Yep,” Kise said, bringing his hands to his stinging cheeks. “Thanks, nee-chan.”

“Any time,” Rika said. She gave Kise a solid pat on the back, pushing him into the brightly lit room. “Now get in there, top model-kun.”

Kise nodded, beaming, and the moment he stepped into the studio, someone announced his arrival, and both staff and fellow models greeted him as he entered. Kise put on his winning smile, and plunged himself into the role of one of Japan’s top male models and stars, directing all his focus into his work—every expression, every step and pause, every pose and shift of his eyes. He had started out as a model, so everything came more naturally compared to his other jobs, but it didn’t exactly help with his disarrayed thoughts. He would find his fingers just barely hovering over his cheek, where Aomine had brushed his hair back, and kept picturing the look that Aomine gave him when he’d done it. Kise _saw_ in Aomine’s eyes that he knew Kise was hiding something, that something was up, but at the same time it looked like he didn’t care. Like it was no big deal and Aomine accepted Kise nonetheless. And Aomine had been mindful, had acted on his noticing Kise’s flinches and stiffness, but had also reached out to Kise in the gentlest way possible, in a way that Kise almost leaned into like a magnet.

It all made Kise’s heart clench, made it throb so hard that he’d put a hand over his chest, and Kise was so _confused_ but all he could think of was _‘See you tonight then, Kise’._

Kise slapped his cheeks with a start, feeling like a stupid idiot and immediately wincing. “ _Oww_ …” he whined, grimacing as he rubbed his sore cheeks. Sometimes he forgot how much stronger his arms had become because of his new role, and now he was sure there were red, hand-shaped sores on his face.

“You alright, Ryouta?”

Kise turned to one of his fellow models, a pink-haired man with amethyst eyes, standing just a few centimeters shorter than Kise. “Ah, Kisumi,” Kise said, rubbing his cheeks. “Yeah, sorry.”

Kisumi tilted his head to one side, his curly hair bouncing delicately around his face. He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry? For what?” he chuckled. “You’ve been spacing out a lot today. Did something happen?”

Kise squished his cheeks, and then gingerly drew his palms back. His face still stung, and he grimaced. The others in the studio glanced at him curiously, and Kise just knew how distracted he must look to them, despite how he was still going through the motions of their rehearsals without pause. “Nah, nothing really, sort of,” Kise said, his words just falling out of his mouth like he couldn’t be bothered to choose them.

“Make up your mind,” Kisumi snickered, stepping beside Kise as they moved into position. The other models easily made way for them to get to the back, glancing every so often at the two of them. They were undoubtedly two of the top models in the industry, both of them sharing similar height and build, both radiant with fair skin and jewel-like eyes. They were queued at the back of the group, part of the final segments of the upcoming show where they’d be the most anticipated appearances.

The two of them were an impeccable pair, walking side by side, but most eyes lingered on Kise. He wasn’t just a model anymore: he was an actor too, a step above most in the room, practically put on a pedestal atop the rest. Even with his befuddled thoughts, Kise carried himself in a way that commanded both respect and admiration, like an unreachable beauty, a far-shining star.

(But, Kise would think to himself, he couldn’t be like the sun that blazed so far away, so out of reach. He could never shine quite as bright, or as fiercely. He couldn’t beat him, not when _‘See you tonight’_ weighed on his mind so strongly, and deep blue eyes appeared at the back of his eyelids at every blink.)

“I don’t know, I’m confused,” Kise sighed. There weren’t many people he could freely talk to in the industry, and Kisumi was one of those few friends he’d made when he was starting out as a model. They’d practically grown together in that job ever since getting they got scouted during their later years of high school, and the company was appreciated in that world of shallow smiles and hidden intentions.

“Could it be about Aomine Daiki?”

Kise sputtered and stiffened, head swerving to look at Kisumi. “ _What_ why would you think that.”

Kisumi’s smile widened, eyes sparkling. “I was surprised when you ran up to him when he appeared as your special guest,” he said, both of them barely paying attention to the bustling around them. “And then you went on that date with him to Maji Burger—”

“ _Date_ what date,” Kise spluttered, gaping. “That wasn’t a date…was it? _Wait_ how do you even know about that.”

“It’s on the internet,” Kisumi snorted, barely stifling his laugh. “You were feeding him and holding his hand—what else would it look like? You should know how much people are pairing you two together now.”

“ _What_.” Kise was still gaping. “We what? _They what?_ ”

Kisumi pushed a fist to his mouth to muffle his laughter, shoulders shaking against his little huffs. “It’s not a big deal.” He waved a hand, then gave Kise’s shoulder a pat. “You look happier, so that’s all that matters,” he said, bringing his hands down to smile sincerely at Kise.

“I do?” Kise raised a brow, grimacing. “It feels like I’m just mostly confused and distracted.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen you so lively and colorful since you got that role in the drama,” Kisumi pondered. “Actually, I’m more reminded of that time when I first met you—when you were in second year?—during the Inter-High season. Yeah. You’re just like the you back then.”

Kise cocked his head to one side. “Really?”

“Come to think of it, you used to talk about _‘Aominecchi’_ a lot back then,” Kisumi’s eyes widened with realization. “You’re different with him.”

Kise’s face continued to twist in all sorts of confused and troubled expressions. Sure, he always talked about Aominecchi whenever basketball was concerned, but was it really that much? Kise pouted. “I am?”

“You are, you are,” Kisumi said, nodding, both at Kise and at himself for putting the pieces together. “You’re really more…lively and happy. Even your fans noticed.”

Kise continued to frown, feeling his cheeks start to warm. Now that he was being told about it, he _has_ been more active recently, laughing more and smiling more, and losing control of his practiced celebrity faces whenever Aomine was around. And his chest kept doing that _thing_ where it would hurt and throb and thrash in his chest, and that spot near his eyes that Aomine’s fingers had brushed over tingled at the memory of his touch.

His hand hovered over the side of his face again, and his heart started to beat harder in his chest when _‘See you tonight’_ rang in his mind another time.

“Speaking of Aomine Daiki,” Kisumi said. “I saw him yesterday at the cafeteria over at JC Studios, fighting with Shougo. They looked pretty close.”

Kise blinked, eyes widening a fraction. A guilty frown tugged at the corners of his lips, his expression twisting into another grimace as he put a hand over his face, groaning.

Kisumi frowned. “What? What is it?”

Kise pouted at Kisumi, absently moving along their assigned positions together. “You see, the day before yesterday—when Aominecchi took me to Maji Burger—I fell asleep in the car while Aominecchi was driving,” Kise recounted, sighing. “He couldn’t wake me up because I sleep like the dead so he carried me to his place—well, not _his_ place but where he’s staying—and let me sleep over.” Kise grimaced again, feeling his cheeks warm at the memory. “And then he had to drive me to JC Studios yesterday because I had a thing, so I invited him to watch movies with me ‘cause we weren’t able to the day before. So you saw him at the cafeteria because he was passing the time until I finished but then I fucking fell asleep _again_ and he _carried me_ to _my bed_ and now I’m officially a horrible insensitive prick.”

Kisumi gaped at Kise, blinking owlishly. Kise had a face that got guiltier by the second, but his cheeks were pink seemingly not just from embarrassment, but also from remembering the facts. “Wait, you invited him to watch ‘ _movies’_ with you?”

“Yeah, at my place,” Kise replied almost absentmindedly, still lamenting his amazing track record of falling asleep on Aominecchi. “The last two _Rurouni Kenshin_ movies, supposedly.”

Kisumi’s eyes went wide. “You mean you _still_ haven’t finished watching them?!”

Kise looked like he was going to cry like a child. “ _I haven’t, alright?_ ” he wailed. “And he practically scolded me for it and said that we should watch it together but then I keep getting knocked out like a damn sack of potatoes.”

“Okay, the potatoes part doesn’t make sense but,” Kisumi said, brows knotting. “Let me get this straight—he asked you out to Maji Burger, then to watch movies with you; he _carried you_ to his place when you fell asleep, then drove you to your thing, waited for you to finish work, then _carried you_ back to _your bed_ when you fell asleep again?”

Kise looked like he wanted to evaporate on the spot. “ _Yes_ okay? You don’t have to repeat it, geez.”

“No no no,” Kisumi leaned closer, shaking a hand at Kise as if to make him backtrack. “You don’t seem to get it—”

“No, I totally get it,” Kise bemoaned, raising two hands in the air. “I’m a complete jerk.”

“Ryouta, _no_ ,” Kisumi said, putting a firm hand on Kise’s shoulder, making him stand in attention. “You really don’t get it—this guy, Aomine, he likes you.”

Kise froze. “Ha?”

“Aomine. Likes. You.” Kisumi said firmly. “And not just as a friend, just to be clear.”

Kise blinked at Kisumi’s serious face, mind suddenly slowing to a snail’s pace. Kisumi raised an eyebrow, almost impatient, and looked completely serious.

Kise almost jumped a foot away with a sudden start. “What the hell Kisumi,” he said. Kisumi was way too straightforward for his own good, but he was always honest, which meant a lot, considering their line of work. But now he was being just plain _absurd._ “What are you even saying— _Aominecchi_? Me? What—”

“Look, I don’t know him personally, but he’s a famous guy,” Kisumi argued. “And from what I’ve seen, he’s not the type to do all that kind of caring stuff in general. You’re obviously special to him.”

Kise’s face felt hot, and he was almost sure steam was going to start pouring out of his ears from how heated up his cheeks had become. “No no no no,” Kise chanted, stumbling back into his assigned position as the fashion show rehearsals went on without realizing the chaos going on in Kise’s head. “That’s…I mean—” It was ridiculous, but he had a point, now that he mentioned it. Aomine was far from being an angel, and all the things he’s done so far were exceptionally angelic of him, by Aomine standards. But it was _ridiculous_.

Kisumi leveled Kise with a very dubious and serious stare. “Okay, you can choose not to believe me about him because I don’t _know_ him, but I know _you_ ,” he said. “And you _cannot_ tell me you don’t have feelings for this guy.”

“ _Feelings?_ For Aominecchi?” Kise was dumbfounded. “Well _of course_ I mean—he was my idol in basketball, he inspired me to play—and he’s amazing and—” Kise balled his hands into fists, expression turning panicked. “ _Fucking_ —”

Kisumi sighed, giving Kise comforting pats on the shoulder, and Kise was too befuddled to even notice. “Well I hope you realize it soon,” Kisumi said, turning his back to Kise as he was called for his turn on the catwalk.

“Realize what,” Kise grimaced, looking into space.

“You’ll figure it out,” Kisumi said from over his shoulder, waving a hand as he moved to walk into the spotlight. “I hope.”

Kise watched as Kisumi walked away, his face changing from bright and cheerful to serious and alluring, moving with a steady gait and measured strides that they both mastered over the years. Kise was set to be the last to walk, and he shook his head back into some modicum of sense, back into even just a little focus on his work, and moved into position. After a few moments, he stepped out into view, and those who had returned backstage watched him. Those who were directing and running the show watched him. All eyes turned to Kise, the _Golden Boy_ of the industry, all their admiring, envious, and captivated gazes pointed at him. And he was the most anticipated appearance, the star everyone had their eye on, but Kise barely felt the pressure, could barely register the weight of their stares when they didn’t even compare to the midnight blue gaze he couldn’t get out of his mind.

 

#

 

“The fuck happened to your face?”

Kise grimaced, his cheeks practically growing red with soreness. “Hello to you too,” he said, opening the car door and sloppily slipping inside.

Haizaki hopped in the driver’s seat with a huff, fastening his seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror. Behind him, Kise flopped his torso down to lie on the whole backseat, sighing loudly as he covered his face with both hands.

“Seriously though, will I be beating someone up or something?” Haizaki said, looking at Kise from the mirror.

“No,” Kise answered. “Had to slap myself a few times. If there’s someone you should beat up, it’s me.”

“Oh, then I’m good,” Haizaki waved, switching on the engine. “I’d much rather watch you suffer like this.”

Kise grumbled. “Gee, thanks.”

“Besides, I know exactly six people who’d have my head if I did anything to you, superstar.”

“Oh really,” Kise humored flatly. “Do tell.”

“Huh. Well there’s Rika, there’s the president, the vice president; Kasamatsu, Hayakawa,” Haizaki counted off, driving into a wide road. “And Daiki.”

Silence. There was suddenly only the muffled hum of the car to be heard, and Haizaki could only see Kise’s lower body slung haphazardly on the backseat but he knew that Kise had frozen in place.

After a few beats, Kise groaned an incoherent slur of grumbling against the pillow he’d pressed over his face. Haizaki smirked in amusement, ignoring the quiet tightening of his own chest.

“Are you all teasing me,” Kise muttered. “Am I being bullied.”

“Did someone else tease you today?” Haizaki said. “I gotta give that guy a high five.”

“It was Kisumi,” Kise said grumpily. “Did you two talk about bullying me.”

“Oh, Shigino? Almost forgot he was part of that show,” Haizaki commented. “And no, we didn’t ‘talk’. Bullying you sort of comes naturally to people, you know.”

Haizaki couldn’t see Kise’s face, but he knew Kise was pouting at him. “So cruel,” he groaned.

“It’s true though, about Daiki,” Haizaki said, already knowing what Kise was thinking.

“Are you sure.”

“Yeah, he’s an arrogant bastard but he’d totally knock me out if I tried anything with you,” Haizaki said easily. _He already knocked me out before for fucking_ thinking _about beating you up_ , Haizaki thought to himself bitterly. That hit had fucking _hurt_. Aomine didn’t aim for his nose, sure, but he didn’t pull his punch one bit.

A few silent beats passed before Kise grumbled under his pillow again.

“You’re only flustered ‘cause you’re fucking happy about it, aren’t you,” Haizaki teased, pulling up into a lot and looking around for a parking space.

“Shut up,” Kise mumbled. “Why are you all saying these things.”

“I don’t know what Shigino told you, but it’s probably because it’s true. And it’s for your own good,” Haizaki shrugged. His eyes softened after he spoke, and he said, barely a whisper, “ _And for myself_.”

“What was that last part?” Kise asked from under his pillow.

“I said it’s for your own good.” Haizaki shook his head. “A dense idiot like you won’t be able to get anything without any help. So be grateful, superstar.”

“I’m being attacked,” Kise wailed against his pillow. “I’m being mentally and emotionally pummeled by my own friends.”

“Your ego can take it,” Haizaki said with a sigh.

“Well _yeah_ but you guys could try to take it easy on me sometimes,” Kise chuckled. He hugged his pillow against his chest and sighed. “Ah, I—have a date with Aominecchi later tonight.”

A corner of Haizaki’s lips tugged up in a smirk. “I know. I called Totsuki and got you a reservation to that private room.”

“You did?” Kise sat up, his surprised face visible in the mirror.

Haizaki gripped the steering wheel a little tighter to keep himself from breaking the rearview mirror with Kise’s reflection on it. “Yep. A lot of celebrities go there too but you’d probably want time alone, huh,” he sneered warmly.

Kise pouted at nothing in particular, and Haizaki really had to force himself not to break the mirror and rid himself of the sight of Kise.

“Plus, I’ll be busy tonight so Tanaka-san will be picking you up,” Haizaki told him.

“Eh? You’ll be busy?”

“Yeah, Rika’s really serious about the assistant-manager thing,” Haizaki sighed. “I can’t believe she’s having me go with you to the tour today—it’s your big acting role and she dumped the fucking bodyguard to do the work, what the hell.”

“It’s ‘cause she trusts you,” Kise said, poking Haizaki on the shoulder. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Well I’m happy about the raise, that’s for sure,” Haizaki grinned.

Kise chuckled, and it sounded like light music to Haizaki’s ears, and Haizaki wanted to maybe hit his head on the steering wheel but settled for just choking it with his hands. “Don’t worry, Shougo,” Kise put a firm hand on Haizaki’s shoulder. “You’ve got me, so it wouldn’t be any problem. Besides, it’s just a tour.”

“Well thanks superstar, that’s very reassuring,” Haizaki sighed, unconsciously leaning into Kise’s palm. He thought for a moment before adding, “And I’ll say this now before I forget, but try not to get plastered drinking with Daiki tonight.”

Haizaki could _hear_ Kise’s frown. “ _What_.”

“I’m serious,” Haizaki sighed. “You’re a fucking lightweight.”

“I am _not_ ,” Kise said. “You’re just a damn monster when it comes to drinking.”

Haizaki smirked. “Hm, well, I guess that’s true,” he said. “Fine, you’re _okay_ at drinking, just don’t drink too much around Daiki.”

“Why specifically around Aominecchi?”

Haizaki narrowed his eyes in thought. “Hm. It’s nothing,” he said after considering. “I guess since Daiki will be with you, then I don’t need to worry.” _I hope._

Haizaki saw the way Kise’s cheeks flushed faintly as his brows knotted. After a beat, Kise let out a huff, his mood going just a little bit serious. “Aominecchi’s different from…”

Haizaki’s eyes softened. “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly. “I just…you know.”

Kise let out a small sigh. “Yeah.” From the rearview mirror, Haizaki could see Kise close his eyes and clutch his pillow a little tighter against him.

“I trust him,” Haizaki said firmly, absently brushing his fingers over his jaw. It’s been years, it had healed up already, but he could remember the pain from a punch that was meant to protect someone like he remembered the fierce blue eyes that stood behind it. “I can trust Daiki with you.”

They both went silent, and Haizaki could see Kise hug his pillow tighter, burying his jaw in it to try to hide his cheeks. Haizaki’s gaze warmed, eyes softening at the sight of Kise looking more alive and happier than usual. Haizaki ignored the stupid clenching of his heart and let out an exasperated sigh. “And I’m your bodyguard, so.”

Kise moved his eyes to look at Haizaki’s from the mirror, his amber eyes like honey, sweet and warm. Haizaki felt his chest throb, and mentally kicked himself for the way that his stomach fluttered when Kise smiled and said, “I know. Thanks.”

Haizaki nodded, could only nod in response, moving his head to look away and focus on the road, on anything but Kise and those eyes of his. They drove in silence for a few moments, and Haizaki let out a determined huff, switching his concentration to his job. “We’re here. Fix up and get ready. A bunch of important guys will be around so go and be Mr. Perfect now.”

Kise chuckled, shuffling around at the back to set his pillow aside and straighten himself up. Haizaki parked the car and shut the engine, watching Kise from the mirror as he ran a hand through his golden hair, so soft that they fell into order just like that. Kise closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the redness of his cheeks faded and his flustering gone. He exhaled, opening his eyes, and brought his mind into focus. Haizaki almost shuddered at the sharp concentration in Kise’s eyes that he easily called on, at the sudden mask he donned as a rising actor in the industry. It was without doubt that this new breakout role was important to Kise, in more ways than just for his career, and even Haizaki, with all his years of knowing Kise and being his bodyguard, would still be amazed by how Kise took on all these new challenges and conquer them just as easily as he could copy abilities.

Haizaki smoothed his hair back, trying to tame it a little, and pulled on a blazer. They both stepped out of the car and were met by various heads of production for the drama. They bowed, shook hands, and Kise was the shining beacon of perfection all throughout. Haizaki wasn’t fond of all the formalities, all the smiling and ass-kissing, but he was comfortable beside Kise. There was just something very reassuring about being next to him, on his side, like you could rely on him to be able to handle everything, and Haizaki absently thought that Kise was still an ace, even off the court. Kise used to be a self-centered prick Haizaki never got along with back in middle school, but Kise had always been the kind of guy who could _connect_ people. It was no wonder that Kise remained the ace of his high school team up until his last year, and that Kise was such a famous celebrity now.

“Over there is Studio A, and across it is Studio B,” a producer continued to inform them, pointing to the buildings along the road they toured. “Kise-san’s Hospital Room Set is at Studio B, and the adjoining annex is the Rehab Set—we were able to build them together to make it easier for everyone.”

Kise smiled, nodding in approval. “I’m glad we were able to get more sponsors on this.”

“It’s all thanks to you, Kise-san,” another staffer said. Haizaki recognized him as one of the PR leads of the series. “You’ve really helped out in promoting the project.”

“No no, it’s thanks to everyone’s hard work,” Kise said sincerely, waving a hand modestly. “I only say the truth, and that’s that this series is amazing.”

Kise looked completely genuine and humbled, thoroughly charming all those around him. Haizaki smirked as he watched their companions get completely dazzled by Kise, who seemed brighter and so full of radiance that even Haizaki, who was supposed to be used to the sparkling celebrity, found himself getting stunned as well.

As they continued on their tour, Haizaki started to feel the strain in his hips and neck from bowing so much while accepting all the business cards and meeting the shit ton of important people he and Kise were supposed to be acquainted with. He was practically a nobody, just a bodyguard, an aide, but somehow people properly minded him. He was sure it was because of the Kises—Rika’s strict training and reputation, and Ryouta’s presence and trust in him. Haizaki knew he’d never get used to the life he had now, and no matter how long he’s been at it, he was certain he’d never quite fully believe he was living it.

“The training area is at the new gym over here,” a producer told the two of them, pointing to a building they approached. The building manager greeted them and opened the doors for them, and inside they found a brightly lit training room complete with all sorts of equipment and gear. They were introduced to a couple of trainers making rounds and taking stock of the inventory, and again Haizaki felt like a fucking hinge because of all the bending he was doing to bow.

“You’ll be getting a new trainer, Kise-san,” one manager said. “We managed to get someone who was trained in America, and has dealt with the training of celebrities there. You’ve already completed the first course, right?”

Kise tilted his head in that boyishly cute way of his, his eyes sparkling with interest. He moved his slim fingers to wrap around the handle of a kettle bell on a stand nearby, the label on it reading eighty-eight pounds. He lifted it easily, raising it up and down like it was a picnic basket, and knotted his brows in thought. “I did, but I feel like I still need to continue parts of it,” Kise said. “For the second half of the season where Hisanobu’s supposed to be spending more time in rehabilitation and training.”

Their companions stared at Kise, at the almost delicate-looking ray of sunshine that he was as he gave his comments. The training coordinator approached him and consulted both Kise and Haizaki about Kise’s training schedules, the regime, the joint training sessions with other fellow actors, and the assignment of trainers. At one point, Kise shrugged off his jacket and deadlifted upwards of two hundred pounds, thoroughly surprising everyone in the room. After a few shifts, he gently set the weighted barbell down and flicked his head, tossing his hair to one side with a small huff. He had just lifted practically twice his weight, no sweat, and still looked like the picture of perfection, his hair softly fluttering around his face as he spoke to the obviously impressed trainers, everyone else looking to him with sparkling eyes.

Haizaki grimaced, almost shuddering at the sight of the ridiculous pretty boy whose looks belied the undeniable strength hidden under his damn designer clothes. Haizaki made a mental note to hit the gym more often—it wouldn’t do him that much good to be a bodyguard who was weaker than his charge.

“Hey Shougo,” Kise whispered, tapping Haizaki’s shoulder. “Do you think I could have time to go to the gym apart from training?”

Haizaki furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“I feel like I should work out more,” Kise told him, his own brows knotted in honest consideration.

Haizaki gave him an incredulous look. “The fuck Ryouta, you don’t need to ‘ _work out more’_ ,” he hissed at him. “You’re a _top model_ on like every fucking billboard and you can deadlift twice your fucking weight, what else do you want?!”

Kise frowned. “But…”

“Jesus Christ, no _‘but’_ s, you already have training for the drama, that’s enough of a work out, you nut,” Haizaki snapped. “And you’re gonna lose more sleep if you try to squeeze extra gym hours, so shut it.”

Kise’s mouth downturned into a pout. “ _Fine_ ,” he whined, turning back to the others around them with a huff.

Haizaki sighed, and this time he pulled out his phone to save a reminder for himself to definitely hit the gym more often. Kise was fucking ridiculous—literally everyone thinks he’s got a perfect face and body, and can probably lift Haizaki and throw him across the room—and the bastard _still_ thinks he should work out more. Haizaki wanted to punch him, he really did, but he was almost scared that his knuckles would break at the attempt.

“Haizaki-san, here you go.”

Haizaki stiffened in attention, turning to one of the training coordinators who was handing him a document. He smoothened his expression to something he hoped wasn’t as threatening as he felt, and bowed just a little as he accepted it.

“These are the notes on Kise-san’s training schedules,” the coordinator said. “This also includes the information of the new trainers, fellow actors, and studio contacts, among others.”

Haizaki nodded stiffly, offering his thanks as he barely skimmed through the list out of courtesy. There were a shit ton of words and numbers and Haizaki would probably have to remember them all but he couldn’t be bothered to try at that time. Instead he looked for Kise’s name, easily finding the kanji of it and vaguely scanning whatever was most relevant to him.

(Later, much later, Haizaki would mentally kick himself for missing a name printed on the list, for overlooking that one important person he was going to encounter that he wouldn’t be prepared to see at all.)

They were ushered out of the gym and led to the next building, a bigger one with some cars parked outside it. Haizaki pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep track of all the new information he was being fed as he followed alongside Kise. Haizaki’s head started to throb, and he’d just been walking around being handed business cards and documents and talking to people, but he was _tired_. There was something about the whole entertainment industry shit that seemed to suck the energy of anyone who’d so much as dip their finger in it, and Kise was fucking _living_ that life—Haizaki sometimes couldn’t understand _how_ Kise did it, even if it was his job to stick with him as he did.

Haizaki glanced at Kise, who had that gentle, practiced smile on. He looked calm, just the right amount of interested and always with that abundance of natural charm and charisma. Kise was tired, more worn out than Haizaki, for sure, but he didn’t show a single hint of it. Kise almost _thrived_ at the job, took it on like a challenging game, and it took a lot for Haizaki to just keep up.

As they neared the entrance to the next building, the distinct sound of squeaking shoes and rhythmic thuds against the floor could be heard from inside. It was a familiar sound, and stopped Kise in his tracks.

“This is the gym,” a producer announced. “There’s a shoot going on inside right now, but this will be the set for the flashbacks and team training.”

There were more sounds of squeaking and running, coupled with the all too familiar sound of dribbling coming from inside. Kise seemed to gravitate to the door, his eyes open wide with curiosity and anticipation, and he wasn’t looking at anyone in particular when he asked, “Can we look inside?”

Kise didn’t even wait for the affirmative when he slowly pulled the door open and peeked in, and all of a sudden he was met with the sight of a flash of black lined with white, like a strike of lightning shooting up in the air, and the thunderous sound of a slam dunk resounded through the gym as Aomine smashed a basketball into the hoop.

Kise’s mouth fell open, both in shock and wonder. If Haizaki hadn’t been beside him, he wouldn’t have heard Kise gasp, “ _Aominecchi?!_ ” under his breath.

Haizaki had to blink out of his own surprise and awe, watching as Aomine landed both gracefully and powerfully on the ground. Aomine huffed, catching the ball as it was passed back to him, and casually played with it as a photographer spoke to him. Around him were various lights and all sorts of photography equipment set up around the court, and a green wall stood on one side of it. Momoi was standing by the sidelines barely concealing her concern, carefully overseeing the shoot alongside the photographers.

In the center of it all was Aomine, dressed in his NBA team’s black uniform, his hair trimmed shorter and his fingers nimbly playing with the basketball in his hand. He nodded at something the photographer said, and he shifted, legs moving so smoothly and swiftly under him in a way that completely captivated everyone watching. With a few agile strides, he made a drive to the paint, the sound of his dribbling sharp and strong, and the ball was a blur when he passed it to his other hand just before launching himself in the air with one fluid motion.

He was fast, too fast, and the camera’s shutter was frantically taking shot after shot as if it could barely keep up with him. Aomine moved so smoothly, so perfectly, that it was impossible to keep their eyes away, everyone thoroughly captivated by the obvious abundance of skill and power that Aomine possessed.

Kise could only watch in awe, could only stare in open amazement as Aomine turned once in the air and swung his arm down to the hoop, dunking the ball like a thunderbolt with so much strength that the backboard shuddered, almost as if it was just as amazed at Aomine as everyone else was.

Haizaki’s jaw slackened for a moment, his eyebrows high with wonder. He glanced at Kise and saw how wide those amber eyes had become, shining with a fire that seemed to blaze at the sight of Aomine. And Aomine grinned, looing like he couldn’t get enough of just holding the ball, his form oozing with so much suppressed energy that he could barely reign in. He dribbled the ball from one hand to another, that wide smile and the shorter hair making him look just like he did when he was still a first year in Teiko, except he was bigger, taller, and overwhelmingly stronger; but his steadfast love for the sport only shined even brighter, and it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that Aomine was in his element, right at home so long as he had a basketball and stood on a court.

Haizaki could see in Kise’s expression that he was seeing Aomine again, that idol he had encountered so long ago that lit a fire in him that never quite faded. Kise stood so still, but seemed to thrive in the presence of Aomine, seemed to get filled to the brim with life and get completely caught in the torrent of Aomine’s skill and self.

“ _Shougo_.”

Kise wasn’t looking at him, barely whispered Haizaki’s name under his breath just enough for Haizaki to hear. Haizaki turned his head to look at Kise, seeing the way Kise’s eyes watched Aomine like he was the only light in the room, and Haizaki saw Kise’s eyes calm, like he had decided on something, like he had resigned to a fact that he shouldn’t have bothered to fight.

And Kise’s lips parted, letting out a quiet sigh, a breath he’d been holding, and said, “I think I’m in love with Aominecchi.”

 

[tbc]


	9. To the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Such a spoiled princess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update! Here's a pretty long chapter to make up for it. Haven't gotten the chance to really beta this so sorry for any mistakes! Again, if any of you want to chat or ask questions, you can shoot me up on kittlekrattle.tumblr.com! I'll only answer non-spoilery questions if you go on anon, and will answer off-anon questions privately!

Kise’s hands were in front of him before he could even think about moving them, and in an instant, there was a basketball caught snugly in his palms. All at once everything felt so familiar: the light of the court, the polish of the floor, the weight of the ball in his hands—

The way Aomine stood on the court like the sun.

Aomine was smirking at Kise, encouraging him with a nod to the hoop. Kise felt his heart thump loudly in his chest, and he had to blink a couple of times before looking to the basket, taking a deep breath to keep from flustering.

Kise looked at the ball in his hands, felt the texture of the hard material and the grooves in each solid line running through it. He hadn’t held a basketball out of his acting role in a long time, and hadn’t received a pass from any of his friends for even longer. He could feel the warmth of Aomine’s hands on the ball still, could remember the way he’d just been playing as if it were burned in the back of Kise’s mind the moment he saw him. Without any warning, a wave of something Kise hadn’t felt in _years_ came washing over him, and his body moved naturally on its own: he clutched the ball on each side, bent his knees, and brought his eyes up to the hoop ahead. In one fluid motion, he jumped, bringing his arms up and flicking his wrist at the optimal height. The ball flew into the air, high above their heads, and Kise landed on his feet and watched as the ball curved a wide arc up until it went through the hoop with a decisive _swish_.

The ball bounced once before the silent gasps of _ooh_ s and _aah_ s echoed through the court. Kise let out a breath, mildly surprised, and watched as Aomine moved to snatch the ball in the air as it bounced. Around him people muttered and gushed, _‘How did he do that kind of shot?’, ‘That was amazing!’, ‘He was way beyond the half-court line and he still made it?’_ and Kise was supposed to smile, he was supposed to act sheepish and happy at the compliments, but none of their words could compare to the way Aomine _smiled_ at him. None of their praise could make Kise quite as happy as when Aomine looked at him with that sparkle of excitement in his eyes.

And _I’m in love with him_ , rang through Kise’s head as easily as he breathed.

“Man, you still got it,” Aomine said, his grin openly thrilled. “Midorima’s shot and Himuro’s form—no, _your_ form. It’s still as mesmerizing as ever. Prettier than Himuro’s.”

Kise couldn’t help the flush that colored his cheeks. “The NBA superstar is complimenting me,” he gasped, putting a hand over his chest in mock incredulity. “I must be super amazing.” Even Kise was surprised at how he managed to come up with anything coherent, much less actual sentences. His heart was still doing tumbles in his chest, but at the same time, as he watched Aomine dribble the ball at his side, it clenched. It hurt.

“If it makes you happy,” Aomine said flatly, but he was still smiling.

Kise didn’t expect to see Aomine at all, not so soon, but both of them were so pleasantly surprised that everything had been interrupted—Aomine’s shoot, Kise’s tour—and when Kise caught Aomine’s eye, nothing else really mattered. And Kise laughed. He laughed because they were supposed to meet later, not run into each other on the job. He laughed because he’d been standing and watching Aomine for a full minute before Aomine noticed him with a start. He laughed because an invisible weight tumbled out of his chest, following after the words he’d never thought he’d utter just left his mouth as surely as his breath did.

He laughed because Aomine was there. And he was happy.

“Yeah, I’m very happy, thanks,” Kise chuckled, hiding his mouth behind a loose fist. “I never thought I’d get to see you having a shoot.” Kise had seen Aomine’s posters and ads here and there, but Kise would always think that those could never compare to seeing the real thing. Nothing could quite capture _Aomine_ , not a photo or any words or _anyone_. Aomine would always be an elusive flame, a blazing comet, always so captivating and so, so far away.

“Didn’t think I’d see you so soon either,” Aomine shrugged. “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

Kise sputtered, snorting. He laughed again, bright and free. “If it makes you happy,” he echoed, and Aomine smirked. “I’m surprised you actually agreed to being the poster boy of the new line of Jordans,” Kise said. “What convinced you?”

Aomine shrugged, shifting his heels against the ground. He glanced at his feet, his basketball shoes black and white like his uniform, in his favorite brand that he now models for. “I get free shoes.”

Kise blinked, and found himself laughing again, loud and flushed. Behind him, Haizaki rolled his eyes, and Kise’s happiness was so contagious that everyone around him smiled or chuckled with him.

It turned out that Kise knew the photographer in charge of the shoot—then again, in that industry, everyone knew everyone in one way or another—and at the call of a short break, Momoi took the chance to stomp over to Aomine and chide him for running and jumping too much while he was still recovering. Aomine was honestly too happy about finally being able to play that he just took the scolding without issue, and Momoi sighed with a whine but couldn’t stay mad at him either way.

Kise tried his hardest not to keep staring at Aomine, but there really wasn’t anything or anyone that could hold his attention, nothing quite so enthralling or bright as he was. And as he stared, all the doubts he was trying to come up with would get smothered by _I’m in love with him_ and Kise just couldn’t fight it, couldn’t fight those words that came with so much certainty and resolve that Kise was left defeated without a sliver of a chance.

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring, and he didn’t realize that Aomine had been staring back until Kise felt a gentle brush of fingers against his cheek.

“I noticed it earlier,” Aomine said, his expression soft around a small grin as he tucked some of Kise’s fringe behind an ear. “But your hair’s gotten long. It keeps going over your eyes.”

Kise’s breath caught in his throat, and all words were lost in those midnight blue eyes. Without thinking, he leaned, just a little, into Aomine’s touch, and for a moment, Aomine’s smile faltered. His cheeks seemed to darken faintly when he made to pull his hand back, sliding his fingers just barely against the side of Kise’s jaw. Kise felt his heart stall, felt those electric sparks tingling where Aomine’s warm fingers lightly touched him, and Aomine curled his fingers into a fist as he pulled away, bringing his hand to rub at the back of his neck.

Kise’s lips parted and let out a sigh, and he sucked in a breath as he tried to find his voice. “Yeah,” he coughed. “I suppose I should have it cut sometime.” Kise’s lips curled up with some effort, but smiling never seemed to be hard to manage when he was around Aomine. “Does Aominecchi like my eyes?”

Aomine blinked at him, eyes widening a fraction. A warm smile stretched across his lips, making Kise’s heart jump in surprise. “Yeah.”

The blunt honesty made Kise’s heart stutter, and there was open surprise on his expression that he had no control of whatsoever. Aomine smirked at him and snickered, taking Kise’s shock as a chance to reach out and ruffle Kise’s hair and make him sputter. Aomine walked away as the shoot went back into motion, and Kise couldn’t quite make out what the others were saying around him, but Aomine’s voice was clearest to his ears.

“Give me a pass,” he told Kise.

Kise blinked back into focus, forcing himself to be more aware of his surroundings—of everything that isn’t just Aomine—and cocked his head in confusion at Aomine’s request. When the world around him shifted back into his senses, Kise caught the encouraging smiles and words of agreement from those around him, and understood.

Kise looked back to the still smirking Aomine, and Kise nodded. The two of them glanced at the photographer, who gave them a thumb’s up, and Kise and Aomine’s eyes met for a brief moment before Aomine started dribbling.

Kise sidestepped into movement just as Aomine dashed, and both of them were in perfect sync when Aomine passed the ball to Kise, and Kise barely held the ball for a second when he launched it high in the air, just a little distance away from the hoop, and without a moment’s pause, Aomine’s hand went down on the ball and slammed it right through in a dunk.

No matter how hard Kise tried to be aware of his surroundings, he just couldn’t, not when Aomine was right there, with his hair cut short just as it used to be when Kise had first met him, playing basketball just like he had been when Kise found the fire that lit him back to life.

“Damn, that was great,” Aomine grinned, looking at his palm and curling it into a fist. “Still one of my favorite passes.”

Kise sighed all over again, and he couldn’t fight it. Not any of his doubts or the way his stomach would flutter or how his heart would leap. He smiled, defeated, and tried to repress his feelings, tried to smother them deep inside him as he beamed at Aomine.

Aomine brought his fist up and pointed it at him with an even brighter grin, and _I’m in love with him_ was the mantra Kise’s heart sang at every beat.

 

#

 

“…How do I look?”

“Goddamn hideous,” Haizaki replied without pause.

Kise frowned, his face almost aghast.

“You look horrible, absolutely horrific,” Haizaki drawled, tapping at his phone. “I feel sorry for any mirrors your ugly-ass reflection will break.”

“ _Shougoo._ ”

“ _What_ ,” Haizaki groaned, lifting his eyes up from his phone to Kise. “You’re a goddamn _model_ , Ryouta, how many times do I have to fucking _remind_ you?” Haizaki grumbled, staring flatly at Kise and his stupid perfect hair and light clothes and amber eyes. “You fucking look like a photogenic bastard whose paparazzi photos can sell in the hundreds—which they _have_ —and anyone who thinks you’re anything but fucking pretty as fuck is a blind son of a bitch.” Haizaki finished with a decisive wave of his hand. “ _There_. Happy?”

Kise pouted, and Haizaki shot him a dirty look. “Okay, okay,” Kise said, unable to help the small curl of his lips. “Thanks, I guess?”

Haizaki grunted in response, stuffing his phone into his pocket. They both walked towards the car under the darkening sky, the evening air getting chilly with the season.

Kise cocked his head to one side with a small smirk at Haizaki. “Don’t worry about the meeting so much, Rika-nee trusts you so I’m sure you’ll do fine,” he said.

Haizaki stiffened, grumbling grumpily under his breath. “Don’t do that damn clairvoyance thing of yours,” he muttered. “I don’t like being responsible and shit.”

“Well you’re responsible for my safety,” Kise shrugged, trying to keep from vibrating in place. “And you’ve been doing a pretty good job.”

Haizaki grunted again, turning his head away from Kise to hide the heat in his cheeks. “Shut up,” he grumbled, getting frustrated at himself for the way his heart thumped annoyingly when Kise chuckled in response. “Don’t think about me and my suffering,” he groused. “Just focus on your new love life, superstar.”

Kise frowned. “There is no _‘new love life’_ ,” he said. “I just…I guess I just have feelings for him, that’s all.”

“Yeah, took you more than a whole decade to figure that out,” Haizaki mused, ducking into the car after unlocking it.

“Wha—it hasn’t been _that_ long!” Kise protested, stumbling into the passenger seat next to Haizaki.

“Fuck yeah it has,” Haizaki lectured, and then raised a brow at Kise sitting next to him. “You’re sitting up front?”

“What do you mean it has,” Kise continued to frown, squirming into the seat to get comfortable as he shut the door at his side. “And _yes_ I want to sit in front.”

“I mean you’ve been crushing on Daiki since forever,” Haizaki said frankly, fastening his seatbelt with a click. He turned to Kise, knowing how stupidly forgetful he was about being in front. “Fasten your—”

Kise was still frowning as he absently slid his seatbelt on. “What do you _mean_ I’ve been _crushing_ on him?”

Haizaki blinked, still vaguely surprised about Kise actually remembering to fasten his seatbelt. It felt like Kise was finally not a huge-ass _child_ , and Haizaki held back a smirk as he started to drive. “Nothing,” he replied. “What matters is that you finally fucking realized your goddamn crush and _whaddya know_ , you’re going on a date with him tonight,” Haizaki’s cheered flatly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel to smother the twitchiness of his hands. “What a perfect opportunity for you to confess.”

Even without looking, Haizaki could see Kise sputter and jerk at his side. “Wh— _confess?_ I’m not going to _confess_.”

Haizaki’s brows knotted. “Why the hell not.”

“I—” Kise muttered, almost confused. “I can’t. I shouldn’t. I’m not…I’m not good for Aominecchi.”

Haizaki could have sworn he felt a nerve threaten to pop in his temple, and he snapped his hand to the side and grabbed the top of Kise’s head in a vice grip, making him yelp. Haizaki squeezed, and Kise flailed. “God fucking dammit Ryouta,” Haizaki barked. “This fucking shit again? I thought we were over this.”

Kise whined, struggling under Haizaki’s hand. He managed to shove Haizaki’s arm off without much effort. “But—”

“No fucking _‘but’_ s,” Haizaki snapped, smacking his hand back over Kise’s head. “I thought you were done with that stupid self-worth shit of yours. You fucking came back from _that_ shit storm with a _vengeance_ and now you’re trying to tell me you’re not _good_ for Daiki?”

“I just—!” Kise protested, giving up on batting Haizaki’s arm away, shoulders tightening. “I mean—he’s _Aominecchi_ , you know? He’s a basketball sensation and—”

“No _shut up_ , goddammit,” Haizaki snarled, bringing a chop down on Kise’s head and making him squeak. “Shit-talking from haters or me is one thing, but talking down on _yourself_ is not gonna fly with me, so cut it the fuck out. I know that kind of shit isn’t easy to get out of but it’s been _years_ now and you’re _Kise fucking Ryouta_ and I will hit you if you even _think_ of that stupid shit again.”

Kise crumpled up, clutching his head in pain. “You already hit me though you big brute,” he cried, feeling his head throb.

“You deserved it, idiot,” Haizaki scowled, bringing his attention back to the road and trying to calm his stupid annoyance.

Kise grumbled under his breath for a bit, rubbing his pained head. “Okay, okay,” he sighed after a moment. “Your ‘tough love’ hurts.”

Haizaki felt his heart stutter and his throat catch. He shot Kise a glare that he hoped still had the potency of his earlier anger, and felt his heart stumble over again when Kise let out a light chuckle.

“Okay,” Kise sighed again, quiet. “Thank you.”

Haizaki grunted in reply, and the car was silent. Kise didn’t argue further, didn’t say anything more about his feelings for Aomine, but when Haizaki chanced a glance at him, Kise had a hand over the side of his head, fingers lightly brushing his cheek. It looked like a thoughtless gesture, as if his hand just naturally gravitated to that spot Aomine barely touched, and Kise’s golden eyes were gazing out into the night sky, but he was seeing something else in that navy blue.

Haizaki almost wanted to roll his eyes, or maybe smack Kise once more upside the head. As he drove, he was annoyingly hyper-aware of Kise sitting beside him and the way he looked like a star picked out of the night sky, somehow ending up trapped inside the car with him. Haizaki held back an exasperated sigh, content with the quiet—the lack of Kise’s stupid insecurities, the arguing, that voice, that laugh—and Haizaki could at least think clearly about his driving and his job, but ‘ _I think I’m in love with Aominecchi’_ always found a way to sneak in somehow and tightly squeeze his heart.

 

#

 

The skies were midnight blue high above Aomine’s head, and as he gazed up at the small, faraway stars that dotted the night, he felt at home.

It was the same sky, the same stretch of endless blue infinitely cast above everything, but it was familiar. It was the sky above Japan that he’d lived under for most of his life, that gave him some of the best warm gold and orange when he’d play basketball in the street courts, and also the dark gray clouds and rains when he couldn’t quite look up. It was the sky that he lied under during those seemingly meaningless school days on the roof when nothing made him feel _alive_ , and every day it was his only refuge. It was that same night sky that always stretched above him in the days he was happiest, in those nights when he would walk home from club practice with his middle school team, or with Tetsu after those extra practice hours, or with Kise after countless one-on-ones.

And when Aomine watched as Kise stepped out of his car, under the dark sky that just made him look like one of its lost stars, Aomine felt at home.

There was a different man on the driver’s seat of Kise’s car, with sleepy eyes and a good-natured smile. Kise spoke to the man before turning away, and when Kise spotted Aomine, nothing else could really keep any of his attention anymore.

Kise’s eyebrows went high upon seeing him, lips parting slightly in small surprise. Aomine raised an eyebrow, shifting his weight to his left leg and keeping one hand in his pocket.

“What?” Aomine said when Kise didn’t speak.

Kise blinked rapidly, his cheeks tinting a very faint pink. “Nothing,” he smiled, but continued to look at Aomine, eyes sliding down from his face to his legs. “You really clean up well,” Kise added, smile widening enough to nudge at his golden eyes.

Aomine looked down at his clothes. Satsuki had squealed at him about how the restaurant they were going to was some kind of classy, fancy place, so he went and rummaged through his still unpacked luggage and came with a black shirt tucked into black pants, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top couple of buttons of his shirt undone. That was about as semi-formal as he could get, and more effort than he usually allowed himself to expend, and Kise looked pleased enough so he figured he was safe.

“You look good,” Kise said, eyes staring straight into Aomine’s.

For some reason, Aomine couldn’t quite match Kise’s gaze that long—there was something in the way Kise looked at him that felt…different. They were those same striking, amber eyes, but they felt deeper, heavier, and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be gazed at so warmly. Instead, Aomine glanced at everything but Kise’s face, noticing the pale colors he wore that only made him seem like he was glowing. They were complete opposite of each other, but they matched.

“You too,” Aomine said, moving to follow Kise as they approached the restaurant. “But I guess that’s normal for a model.”

Kise snorted, smiling brightly. “Well thanks, I guess?”

“Oh, except for when you’re sleeping, you look like a mess,” Aomine said. It wasn’t entirely true—Kise still looked disturbingly pretty in the morning—but his hair flopping around in all directions and his cheek squished on the pillows was the closest to a mess Aomine could pin on Kise in any tame situation.

Kise looked like he’d been zapped with a shock of electricity, his cheeks immediately dusting pink as he sputtered, “Shut up, oh my god.”

Aomine laughed, and Kise glared at him with a pout. “I guess I should consider myself lucky,” Aomine grinned. “‘Cause I slept with a model.”

Aomine only laughed harder when Kise punched Aomine’s arm. “Oh yeah definitely lucky,” Kise grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Jesus, that _hurt_ ,” Aomine groaned, but he was smirking as he rubbed his arm. “You weren’t kidding about that training of yours.”

Kise puffed up his cheeks, still pouting. “Of course I wasn’t. I bet I could beat you in arm wrestling.”

“We’ll see about that,” Aomine hummed, ignoring how his arm throbbed where Kise hit him.

A corner of Kise’s lips tugged up in a smirk, a small sparkle of challenge alighting in Kise’s eyes, and it was familiar. As they entered the fancy restaurant through the fancy glass doors, a well-dressed woman greeted them, apparently knowing Kise. She gave a warm bow and gestured for them to enter, and a similarly dressed lady was introduced as their server.

Kise smiled at the lady as she straightened from her bow, and she blushed at that billboard-worthy smile of his. She glanced at the two of them, eyes widening a fraction when she seemed to recognize Aomine, and her blush deepened before she flustered as she ushered them inside.

“Aominecchi’s a panty dropper,” Kise cooed.

“Pretty sure she was looking at you,” Aomine responded easily.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Aominecchi,” Kise chuckled into his hand. “You’re pretty handsome yourself.”

Aomine did a half-assed snort, faltering at Kise’s honest look. Kise continued to smile and gave him a wink, adding, “Besides, you’re a model too.”

Aomine grunted in reply, turning his eyes away from Kise’s bright smile and that laugh. As they followed their server towards the farther end of the restaurant, Aomine noticed how those around the tables stared at them, their gazes mixed with awe and attraction. They watched them both, but most of the attention gravitated towards Kise. Despite the other high-class people around, some probably well known and likely successful in their own right, Kise was a celebrity and a model to boot, stupidly attractive and charming and downright _radiant_ when he smiles—just like he was smiling at Aomine. It was just as well that no one seemed to want to approach Kise, most of them looking like they’d just been graced with a holy presence, but before anyone dared to whip out a camera or even manage to snap a shot, Aomine stepped to Kise’s other side, effectively obscuring him from view.

“Aominecchi’s being stared at,” Kise said, sparkling eyes giving Aomine a sidelong glance.

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re the one being stared at, Kise,” Aomine sighed, turning back to Kise’s bright face.

Kise tilted his head slightly, considering it, and some of his hair fell over his eye. Aomine didn’t realize that he’d reached out to Kise’s face until he’d tucked that stray lock of golden hair behind Kise’s ear, and those amber eyes widened at him, and for a vague moment Aomine was relieved that Kise didn’t flinch.

Aomine let his fingers linger behind Kise’s ear, and then pulled back self-consciously to pocket his hand. They both looked away (and Aomine missed the way Kise’s cheeks bloomed scarlet), almost running into their server when she opened the door to a private room and welcomed them inside.

Kise smiled at her and entered, thanking their server warmly. Aomine sat across from Kise and busied himself with the menu, not reading anything as Kise immediately ordered them drinks and a meal he seemed to regularly get from there.

Kise turned to Aomine, head tilted in a way that made him look up from his lashes. “You alright with those drinks, Aominecchi?”

Aomine nodded, swallowing. “Yeah. I’ll leave the ordering to you.”

Kise’s smile widened. “Alright. I’m sure you’ll enjoy this one dish they serve here.”

Aomine nodded again, shrugging. “I’m counting on you, then.”

With a charming smile, Kise recited their order to the blushing server. After repeating it to them and getting another bright-ass smile from Kise, she bowed, her cheeks red as roses, and scurried off to fetch them their orders.

“You should go easy on her,” Aomine said after the door closed.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Kise cocked his head to the side again, an innocent smile on his face.

Aomine rolled his eyes, staying his fingers from reaching out to brush Kise’s stupid fluffy hair off his eyes. “Nothing,” he muttered. “You should really get a haircut.”

Kise blinked at him, ducking his head to bring his hand to his hair. He pinched the ends of his bangs while looking up at them with those doe eyes. “Yeah, you’re right, it keeps going over my eyes, huh?” Kise blinked behind his bangs and Aomine put in extra effort to keep from smacking Kise’s hand away and shoving his hair off from over his eyes.

“Yeah, doesn’t that bother you?” Aomine said, leaning fully on the back of his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Not really?” Kise brushed his hair to the side, only to let the impossibly soft locks to flutter back over his forehead. He brought his head back up to look at Aomine, long lashes perfectly framing those honey-colored eyes. “I’m used to it. But I’ll have it cut,” Kise grinned. “Since Aominecchi likes my eyes.”

Aomine rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Aw, you’d do that for me?”

Kise winked playfully, pointing a finger gun at Aomine. “Anything for Mr. Basketball Superstar.”

Aomine snorted, and they both chuckled, barely paying attention to their server coming in to give them some appetizers and pour their wine.

“And you,” Kise said, popping some of the snacks in his mouth as he leaned forward on his arms. “Your hair’s suddenly shorter!”

Aomine naturally leaned forward as well, bringing his crossed arms to the edge of the table. “Ah, yeah, I had Satsuki cut it for me earlier, before I forgot,” he said as he chewed. “I could have gotten stabbed in the eyes by my own hair in the playoffs with how long it got.”

Kise snorted, snickering. “What the heck, your hair wouldn’t do that to you.”

“It’s happened before,” Aomine told him seriously. “We were having a three-on-three during practice and then suddenly my hair fucking _attacks_ my eye and the ball almost gets stolen from me.”

Kise hugged his stomach, his shoulders trembling with the effort of not cackling like a loud idiot as he stifled his laugh. “That’s just—” he tries, his words bubbling into laughter. Aomine grumbled about how it was _serious_ , how he had Satsuki cut it right there in the gym while they were at practice, and how everyone else ended up getting their bangs trimmed away from their eyes. Kise practically doubled over with his barely suppressed laughs, and his amusement and joy was so contagious that Aomine couldn’t stop smiling and snickering along.

Aftr a while, their food and wine was brought in, and Kise laughed at Aomine’s outright _sparkling_ eyes and drooling when a glistening steak was presented to him.

“Fucking _wagyu_ , man,” Aomine gushed, slicing into his meat with gleaming eyes.

Across him, Kise watched fondly, taking a bite off of his meal with a smile. He sniggered when Aomine brought a piece of his steak to his mouth, immediately looking completely blissed out as he chewed, eyelids fluttering closed in fervent appreciation.

“Holy shit, _Kise,_ ” Aomine cooed. “I love this. This is great. Meat is great.”

Kise giggled, his cheeks flushing with the amount of happiness that kept bubbling up into his laughter. “Glad you like it.”

“I _love_ it,” Aomine corrected immediately, swallowing his current bite and levelling a deeply beholden look at Kise. “You should try it.”

Kise laughed for the nth time, and without warning, there was a slice of meat in front of his face. He blinked at it, then at Aomine. “No, it’s okay I— _mph?!_ ” Kise flailed when his mouth was suddenly stuffed with steak, and he instinctively chewed, tasting the rich flavor of the meat. He hummed in appreciation, momentarily distracted, then shot a look at Aomine when he’d swallowed. “You didn’t have to give me any, Aominecchi.”

Aomine shrugged, chowing down on his food. “I said you should try it,” he replied. “It’s my steak, I do what I want with it.”

Kise stared at him, then snorted. “What the heck,” he tittered. “You’re sharing food, wow, I must be really special.”

“Just keep telling yourself that, princess,” Aomine smirked. He reached over to lift his glass of wine, appreciatively sniffing the scent of alcohol, and raised it up with a grin. “Hey, let’s toast.”

Kise smirked, lifting up his own glass in front of Aomine’s. “To your trimmed bangs,” he nodded.

Aomine snorted. “To good meat.”

“To your free shoes,” Kise continued with a snicker.

“To your new drama.”

“To the upcoming playoffs.”

“To the future,” Aomine said with finality, and they both clinked their saucers together with matching smirks.

Kise had one eyebrow raised as he stared, transfixed, at Aomine’s face and those deep blue eyes. “To the future,” he echoed, and they both drank.

Aomine let out a satisfied exhale, feeling the burn in his throat and the dim heat that glowed in his stomach. “ _Hah,_ that’s some good wine,” he complemented, taking another sip.

Kise let out his own sigh, cheeks just lightly tinting pink from the alcohol. He let the drink warm his body for a moment, then turned his eyes back to Aomine, both of them continuing to eat. “So hey, the playoffs are soon, huh?”

Aomine chewed, regarding Kise with easy interest. “Sort of. Just a few months to go.”

Kise bit his lip, then took another swig of his wine. “So you’re gonna be leaving soon?”

Aomine raised a brow, sipping from his wine in turn. Kise steered his eyes to his wine and food, tinkering with his dinner absently. He continued to lightly bite his lower lip, a seemingly thoughtless gesture, and Aomine had a disturbingly confusing urge to make Kise stop it, to lean closer and somehow get rid of the distracting pink of Kise’s lips under the worrying bite. Almost in a daze, Aomine stuffed a piece of steak in his mouth to focus on something else. “Not for a while, no,” he said as he chewed. “I’m not allowed to do jack because of this stupid injury thing, so I don’t need to go back until a few months before the official start of the season for some training.“

Kise looked back up to Aomine, and Aomine almost startled at how he’d been watching Kise worry his lower lip and release it when he smiled. Aomine had to tear his eyes away from the lingering pink in Kise’s lips to meet those golden eyes, and decided to busy himself with eating his dinner with a bit more focus. “Oh, well,” Kise coughed. “That sucks, I guess. Is your injury that bad?”

“Heck no,” Aomine replied easily, savoring the flavor of his wonderful, wonderful meat. “I’m _fine_ , it’s fucking _healed_. It’s not one hundred percent—it’s _almost_ one hundred percent—but they want like two hundred percent, bah.”

“Aw, they care about you a lot, huh?” Kise chuckled. “They just want you to be at your best when the season starts.”

Aomine snorted. “These are the same guys who made me do a pushup for every point the team made that _wasn’t_ by me.”

Kise sniggered, barely holding back a snort. “How did _that_ go?”

“Fucking horribly,” Aomine rolled his eyes. “These guys—they’re good. We’re a fucking _offensive team_ ; we _like_ to rack up the points.” He grudgingly munched on his food, the images of his teammates stepping up their game in that one match playing in his head uninvited. “I scored one of my highest in that one game, but coach fucking subbed me out after the second quarter.”

“Why’d he do that?” Kise pouted.

“I scored _a lot_ of points,” Aomine said, part proud and part bitter. “We got a pretty good lead so he decided I _‘shouldn’t push myself too hard’_ and rest my legs.”

“Oh,” Kise said, his pout bubbling out into happy little chuckles. “They really care about you, huh.” Aomine shot him a displeased look, and before he could grumble about it, Kise continued, “So, how many pushups did you have to do?”

“Ninety eight,” Aomine huffed.

Kise’s eyebrows climbed up. “Out of?”

“Er, like a hundred-and-fifty-something?” Aomine’s eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Coach let me back in at the fourth quarter so I fucking tried to save myself.”

“What the—” Kise exhaled, eyes wide. “ _Horribly_ , you said, that’s amazing!” He looked at Aomine with shining, admiring eyes, and Aomine was almost taken aback by the brightness of those eyes. “For your team to get that much and—wait, that means _you_ scored over fifty points?!”

“Huh?” Aomine blinked out of his locked gaze with Kise. “Yeah? I _did_ say it was one of my highest, but the important thing there is that I could have done less fucking pushups.”

Kise stared at him with a gaping mouth, the open admiration on his face almost so strong that Aomine felt warmth try to crawl up his cheeks ( _It’s just the alcohol_ , he was telling himself). And then Kise sniggered, putting a hand over his face with a shaking head. “Aah, you’re really too freaking cool, Aominecchi,” Kise gushed. “Stupid, but amazing.”

“Hey.” Aomine frowned, but he really _did_ feel the heat in his cheeks, and so he downed his wine purposefully.

Kise chuckled, bringing his own glass to his lips and taking a sip of the red liquid, and for a staggering moment Aomine wondered if those lips were as soft as they looked. “That was a sandwich, Aominecchi,” Kise said, running his tongue along his upper lip to rid it of the lingering wine. “A tiny, endearing insult, in the middle of some pretty amazing compliments.”

“Oh, so I should thank you, superstar-san?” Aomine raised an eyebrow, slicing up the last of his meat and preparing to enjoy them to the fullest.

Kise snickered. “Whatever, the point is that it’s true. You’re way too cool, Aominecchi.”

Aomine faltered, brows naturally knotting and lips pulling down, his cheeks definitely warm. “Well thanks, superstar,” he grumbled. “Enough about me, tell me about you.”

“Eh?” Kise did that thing where he tilted his head to one side, his hair flopping around far too perfectly for a normal human being to be blessed with. “What _about_ me?”

“We haven’t seen each other in years,” Aomine munched. “Tell me about how you became such a huge celebrity.”

“Says a celebrity, himself,” Kise smirked, and he refilled both their wine glasses. “After high school, I just focused on the job, is all. My sister got me some good jobs, and I managed to land the cover of a pretty big fashion magazine and everything just snowballed from there.”

“That’s it?” Aomine said. “Come on, tell me some cool celebrity stories or something.”

“Ehh?” Kise wrinkled his nose, sipping from his wine. “Like what?”

“Like anything,” Aomine shrugged. “Tell me about what I missed since I last saw you.”

Kise’s cheeks seemed to flush pink when he put his wine down after another sip, and Aomine vaguely wondered about Kise’s alcohol tolerance and how attentive he should be about it—their drink _was_ pretty strong—but then Kise started telling him about the things he’d been up to since Aomine left, and Aomine felt caught in Kise’s stories, in those sparkling amber eyes and the all-too familiar bright face. Kise told him about that one big fashion shoot where his photo was surprisingly chosen as the cover over other models’ shots; about the pink-haired man Aomine saw dozing off on a couch in that cafeteria—Shigino Kisumi—and how Kise had met him when they were both in high school, getting popular together as models. Kise recounted the one time a female model he had a shoot with somehow got rumored to be his girlfriend, who turned out to have started the rumors herself (Aomine clicked his tongue disapprovingly); and the time when Kise auditioned for a voice acting role and made everyone look positively flabbergasted when he appeared, their eyes and mouths so ridiculously surprised and starstruck that Kise couldn’t hold back his laughter.

At one point, they had finished eating and simply continued on with some snacks on top of their drinks. Aomine for the life of him couldn’t stop listening to Kise’s stories, and just got completely caught in the way Kise told him of all these people—a band’s lead vocalist being in love with a manager under his company, a younger star actor who was mistaken for a girl, a fellow model whose childhood friend pummels him constantly but always picks him up from work—the list seemed endless, and Kise had picked up on so many things about every person that made each person sound so interesting and just _real_. Kise loved people, that much was obvious to Aomine, and above hearing Kise talk about all these people, Aomine just wanted to keep listening to Kise talk so animatedly, with those bright eyes, and always found Kise to be ultimately more interesting than any of those he’d talk about. The way he saw those people, the way he noticed how they looked at others, how someone would smile differently at certain people or move around another; the way Kise would move his hands while he explained, and get a look in his eyes that made him seem like he was recounting the memory so vividly in his mind, and the way he’d always turn those eyes back to Aomine’s with a little crinkle when he’d smile extra wide.

Without even noticing, they’d gone through a whole bottle of wine and were already getting halfway into their second, and Aomine was feeling the lightest and happiest he’d been in a long time, and in front of him, Kise looked golden. He looked like he was glowing, like a ray of sunshine that refused to go out in the night, or a golden fire that made Aomine feel warm just by looking.

Aomine vaguely took note of the redness of Kise’s cheeks, and how that bright smile had mollified into a sort of liquid gold, a melted heat. Again, Aomine was stuck noticing the way Kise’s mouth moved, how his lips lightly pressed on the wine glass as he took a sip—and another, and another. Kise swayed, just a little, and his hair went over an eye, and before even thinking, Aomine had reached over to tuck the offending strand behind Kise’s ear.

Kise stilled when Aomine’s fingers brushed his skin, and Aomine let his fingers stay, just barely touching, and gently slid them down Kise’s ear, then trace the edge of his jaw. Aomine felt Kise shudder under his touch, and he hadn’t noticed that they’d gone quiet, just looking at each other, until he saw how dark Kise’s eyes had become, his golden irises being consumed by the black of his stare. Aomine was sure he had a similar look, and could feel the warmth of the alcohol like a pulsing heat glowing inside him, bringing his eyes to Kise’s lips once more, making him wonder again how soft they must be. Aomine absently relaxed his hand, bringing his fingers away from Kise, and just barely heard the quiet exhale that left Kise’s mouth. Aomine felt so warm, and he had to blink a few times to snap out of his distraction.

“Hey—” Aomine said, almost getting surprised at how husky his voice had become. “You…do you have something against people touching you?”

Kise blinked at him with half-lidded eyes and too-red cheeks, and a lazy, almost bitter smile warmed over his face. “Mm, you really noticed huh.”

Aomine took another swig of his drink, relishing the burn that coursed down his throat. In the back of his head, he knew he shouldn’t have brought it up, but he was sure he was getting drunk and Aomine never claimed to be particularly tactful. “Did something happen?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “You used to be really touchy-feely. And clingy.”

Kise’s eyelids fluttered closed, his smile looking both thoughtful and defeated. For a few long moments, Kise didn’t speak, and he was so still that Aomine thought that Kise had fallen asleep, but then Kise spoke, “You know, I was never particularly fond of modeling,” he started, distractedly swishing his drink around his glass. “All people care about is your looks, how photogenic you are. How attractive you are. It was like my only worth was my face and my body.”

Aomine swallowed, levelling Kise with an attentive stare, the effects of the alcohol not strong enough just yet to dull his attention.

“Which is why I really enjoyed getting into acting, and voice acting,” Kise smiled, his darkened eyes twinkling just a little under those lashes. “It’s fun, and takes skill. Modeling is mostly a lot of shallowness and fake smiles, and it’s frankly kind of scary and annoying how strongly people regard physical looks. Like you’re some kind of pretty, shiny new doll to be put on display. Like an object. Just a face.” Kise’s brow knotted slightly when just a few drops of wine met his lips as he tried to sip, and he reached for the bottle unthinkingly.

Aomine grabbed the bottle away before Kise could reach it. “I think that’s enough alcohol for tonight,” he said, his voice deep and rough. “You’re drunk.”

“No shit,” Kise smirked lazily. “I’ve been drunk like four drinks ago.”

Aomine frowned, considering the redness of Kise’s cheeks and thinking of maybe wanting to pinch them. At that split second of distraction, Kise reached for the bottle, but he was slow and Aomine wasn’t dulled enough by the alcohol to keep from reflexively pulling the bottle away.

“Hey—” Kise slurred, pouting as he gazed up at Aomine from under his lashes.

Aomine grunted at Kise’s stupid face, bringing the bottle to his lips and finishing up what was left of the wine. Warmth swelled all over Aomine’s chest and head when he swallowed, and Kise stared at him, dumbfounded, as Aomine let out a satiated exhale and brought the bottle back down on the table.

“Wah—Aominecchi no fair!” Kise continued to pout, and Aomine couldn’t help how he reached over to pinch Kise’s nose, making him yelp. “Pff—hey! Whad are you doing!” Kise flailed, smacking Aomine’s hand away and gasping for air when he escaped.

“I think I’m gonna bring you home,” Aomine said, the corners of his lips quirking up as he watched Kise lose the bitterness that edged his expression, feeling the atmosphere lighten again.

Kise pouted, but looked mostly appeased by the idea. “Okay,” he said with a small nod. And as Aomine moved to stand, Kise reached over and grabbed Aomine’s wine glass, immediately downing what was left of it.

“ _Hey_ ,” Aomine barked, bringing a chop over Kise’s head.

“Gah! Mean, Aominecchi!” Kise wailed, slumping over the table.

Aomine sighed, sticking his hand in Kise’s hair and ruffling it around. Kise sputtered, but then he started to laugh, light and bubbly and so contagious that Aomine sniggered as well.

“Come on, wouldn’t want to anger your sister,” Aomine said, nudging Kise’s head. He bitterly realized that he should have asked about Kise’s schedule for the next day, bemoaning the fact that he’d gotten Kise drunk without his noticing. “I hope you don’t have anything planned tomorrow morning,” he muttered under his breath.

Kise hauled himself up from his seat with a huge sigh, blinking around and giving a lazy smile to the server who entered to clean up and thank them for coming. The server blushed again, bearing the full force of Kise’s half-lidded gaze, and Aomine felt like being the responsible adult and gave a small bow to the server with a muttered thanks, and she continued to blush as she bowed again and stammered out a “Please come back again!” as they left.

Aomine smiled at her and nodded, bringing a hand to rest on the back of Kise’s collar to guide him away. KIse just barely tensed under his hand, then relaxed against Aomine’s warm palm. Kise turned to look at him, and Aomine felt his heart stutter when he was met with Kise’s expression: his gaze heavy, lips glistening with moist, probably tasting of wine, and eyes tinged with something Aomine couldn’t—quite—understand, those gold eyes like barely suppressed fires smothered by his large pupils, a muffled intensity thick with a gripping stare that made Aomine swallow.

“Where’s your car?” Aomine said roughly, coughing against the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Wait lemme just—” Kise fished around his pocket for his phone, then fiddle around with it until he sent a text to someone. “Okay, just texted Tanaka-san. He should be by the entrance with the car when we get there.”

Aomine nodded, lightly pushing Kise forward by the back of his neck towards the restaurant entrance. Kise willingly followed, swaying just a little off-kilter and steadied only by Aomine’s gentle grip. Around them, the tables have mostly cleared, with only a few people quietly having dinner distantly. Aomine gave a slight bow to the woman up front who thanked them, and Kise warmly thanked her in turn, bowing with that easy, practiced celebrity smile.

When they stepped out of the restaurant, the cold night air was a welcome blanket around their warm bodies, and Aomine tilted his head up to breathe in the outside air. Kise tottered into Aomine’s grip and bumped shoulders with him, leaning some of his weight on Aomine’s side. Aomine almost startled, feeling the light brush of Kise’s hair against his shoulder, and sighed fondly at the barely standing _princess_ at his side. And Aomine gazed up at the sky and saw those modestly twinkling stars shining above them, relishing the pleasant evening chill and Kise’s comforting warmth beside him (not even noticing his own arm move to wrap around Kise’s waist).

Aomine leveled his head back when he heard the sound of a car door opening, and out went a stumpy man with crows feet at the corners of his eyes and laugh lines flanking his mouth. He had the kind of gentle smile that was like a granddad’s, and an amiable face that could spare him less dark circles under his eyes.

“Good evening,” he greeted. “Thank you for taking care of Ryouta-kun.”

Aomine gave an awkward nod, belatedly finding his hand on Kise’s waist and almost jerking back with a start. For fear of dropping Kise, he held fast, smothering the self-consciousness that made him feel like shying away from Kise. “Ah, it’s no problem,” he coughed. “He’s kinda gotten, er…” Aomine glanced down at the obviously unsteady Kise, and Tanaka-san let out a good-natured chuckle.

“I see, I see,” he smiled. “It looks like he really enjoyed himself. Thank you for that.”

Aomine raised a brow in question, then shrugged with the one shoulder that wasn’t occupied by Kise. Tanaka-san only smiled wider, looking overly fond of the both of them, and pulled open a car door. Aomine pushed Kise into the car, just mildly thankful that he could at least walk somehow, and got in beside him, and they both leaned back against the seats with a sigh.

“Ne, Aominecchi,” he said, eyes closed against the dim of the car. “Keep talking to me—I don’t want to fall asleep on you again.”

Tanaka-san started driving away at a gentle pace, and Aomine let out a small sigh as he tried to keep his world from spinning. “It’s alright, I don’t mind if you fall asleep,” Aomine said honestly.

“ _Noooo_ ,” Kise drawled. “I still feel guilty about it. Let’s keep talking. I want to hear your drunk-ass voice.”

“Says the drunk-ass princess,” Aomine snorted, peeking one eye out at his side.

Kise was smiling, head unsteadily swaying around as the car turned. “That was some damn good wine.”

“Mmm,” Aomine hummed in agreement. “Some damn good meat too.”

Kise chuckled, breathy and soft. “I knew you’d like it,” he said.

“Mmm, yeah, thanks, by the way.”

“Next time, treat me in America,” Kise mumbled.

Aomine liked the sound of _‘next time’_. He could imagine bringing Kise to one of his favorite burger joints near the gym, or to the bar by the arena where he and his team would go to celebrate. He could see Kise fitting right in with all the tall Americans, but still stand out with that dazzling smile and radiance befitting of the sun. He’d turn so much heads even without being well-known over there, and Aomine would walk alongside him and point to all the different places he’d discovered over the years he’s spent there.

At games, Kise would be in the front seats. Aomine would easily be able to spot him in the crowd wherever he sat, and shoot him the most annoying, pompous smirk before slamming the basketball down the hoop. He’d play knowing Kise was watching, and score over and over if only to see that proud, admiring smile aimed at him.

Aomine’s heart thumped hard in his chest, and he could feel the heat of his inebriation flare hotter in his face. Before he could put together exactly what the hell he’d been thinking about, the car lurched in a sudden turn, sending Aomine’s head spinning as he reflexively put a hand at his side to brace himself from falling over. To his right, Kise was less responsive, and his head thumped firmly on Aomine’s shoulder when the car steadied.

“Oops, sorry ‘bout that,” Tanaka-san called from the front.

Aomine grunted vaguely, his hand going over Kise’s head to steady him. (So that’s what Kise meant when he said he preferred Haizaki’s driving.)

Surely enough, Kise was asleep on Aomine’s shoulder, breathing deep and even, calming like the roll of the ocean into the shore. Aomine sighed fondly, lightly fluffing Kise’s hair around. He glanced out into the dark sky and picked out the lights dotting the outside, bright and glaring under the filter of intoxication. Aomine screwed his eyes shut and leaned his head against the backrest, focusing on the gentle warmth resting on his shoulder.

“Tanaka-san?” Aomine called out, barely opening his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Can we go to Kise’s place first?”

“Ryouta-kun told me to bring you home first, though…”

“I’m fine, I could get picked up,” Aomine said. “Kise fell asleep. I wouldn’t want to wake him so I could just bring him to his room. It’s partially my fault he got stupidly drunk in the first place, anyway.”

“Oh,” came Tanaka-san’s response. “Well you’re right, I hate disturbing his sleep. I’ll be counting on you then.”

Aomine hummed in reply, closing his eyes again with a small sigh. He almost got toppled off to the seat when the car suddenly curved a sharp right, and it took a lot of his innate reflexes and strength to keep from falling on his side under Kise’s weight. Aomine cursed under his breath and shuffled around to sit upright, protectively wrapping an arm around Kise’s shoulders to keep him from bumping his head all over the place.

Kise stirred, just a little, and pressed closer, burying his head by the crook of Aomine’s neck. Aomine froze, his arm around Kise slipping, and only held him tight again when the car seemed to be keen on tossing them around inside.

It was just as well that Kise’s place wasn’t too far away, and before Aomine could really process what his drunk-ass self was getting all confused about over Kise, they were already parked in the basement of Kise’s condo. Aomine took a few long moments trying to stop his head from rotating the world, timing his breaths with the gentle rise and fall of Kise’s chest. When he was sure he wasn’t going to fall on his face right out of the car, Aomine stepped out and trudged to the door at Kise’s side.

If anything, Aomine was glad he had stellar coordination and control over his body, because with the alcohol coursing through his blood, he at least had the average person’s dexterity, and didn’t struggle too much with getting Kise hauled over his back. Aomine shifted his hands under Kise’s knees, relishing in the snug warmth wrapped around his back. At this point, it felt natural to just have Kise that close, to talk with him about anything and everything; to give him a piggyback ride to his home. Aomine really _did_ miss being in Japan—in his home—and it was as if America was a huge whirlwind that he’d stepped out of, suddenly back into familiar places and faces; and even though a lot of things have changed, everything was somehow still the same.

A soft tickle brushed over Aomine’s skin, sending shivers down his neck from where Kise’s hair feathered over it. Kise stirred, squirming against Aomine’s back, then settled his arms to wrap around Aomine’s neck, close and warm.

“Kise?” Aomine breathed, trying to keep focus on the numbers on the elevator counting floors up.

“Mmh?”

Aomine fidgeted against Kise’s hug. “You awake? You think you can stand?”

“Noooo…”

Aomine rolled his eyes, unable to stop the upward quirk of his lips. “Such a spoiled princess.”

Kise only leaned forward, hugging more tightly in a daze. He let out a light, airy chuckle and nuzzled his head into Aomine’s neck. “Mm…you carried me like this before, right…”

“Yeah, like yesterday,” Aomine mumbled, purposefully ignoring how Kise was moving against him. “You were asleep though.”

“No no, it was…back in…high school? Second year. Yeah.” Kise yawned, his hot breath making goosebumps erupt all over Aomine’s skin. “Winter Cup.”

Aomine’s brows knotted, face scrunching up in buzzed thought. “Ah, right. I did.” The memory was all fuzzy with alcohol, but Aomine remembered. It was fucking cold and Kise was outside and Aomine remembered something that really _hurt_ and the way Kise smiled at him. Now that Aomine tried to look back, it was a smile similar to the one Kise wore for his viewers and fans—the one where he was hiding something.

“Aominecchi’s so nice…”

The elevator dinged open and broke into the comfortable quiet between the two of them, almost making Aomine jump. He grumbled under his breath as he traipsed into the hall, somehow easily remembering where Kise’s room was, and in his drunken stupor, he couldn’t help but appreciate how warm and perfectly Kise was draped around him. Like a cozy blanket you never wanted to get out of, or like the sweet embrace of the sunlight in a spring morning.

“Kise,” Aomine said quietly, nudging his head against Kise’s. “Keys.”

“Mnh?” Kise nudged back, burying his head deeper into Aomine’s neck. “Keys?”

Aomine tried to suppress a shudder. “To your place.”

Kise was quiet for a few beats as Aomine walked. When Aomine neared Kise’s door, he wondered if Kise had fallen asleep again, then felt him pull back an arm from Aomine’s neck. Kise shuffled around, reaching behind him, and produced a set of keys held together by a small basketball keychain.

Aomine shifted a little awkwardly. “Hm,” he said. “I’m gonna have to put you down.”

“Eehh?” came Kise’s whine, and his arms went around Aomine’s neck again in a tight grip.

“Fuck, not so tight,” Aomine groaned. “My hands are occupied, I can’t open the door like this.”

“Noooo,” Kise wailed, really wrapping tight around Aomine.

“Goddamn—” Aomine grunted, wobbling on his feet as the pressure around his neck started to constrict his breathing. “I said not so tight. _Now_ you’re fucking clingy, what the heck.”

Kise made little displeased noises, but loosened his arms. “S’ry,” he mumbled, dumping his head back against Aomine’s shoulder. “Sorry. I can’t—” Kise hiccupped. “It’s because of that douche.”

Aomine stilled, feeling his mind settle into focus. “What douche?”

“Ngh,” Kise groaned, his little mumbles bordering on sobs. “The reason I’m— _hic_ —so fucking _weird_ about people— _hic—_ touching me. I don’t—even— _get_ it.”

Aomine felt a muted heat pool at his stomach, like the threatening boil of lava. He wasn’t sure why he started getting angry, but he knew that he didn’t want to hear Kise sound so pained. He didn’t want to push it, not when Kise was very obviously drunk and vulnerable, not when it seemed like it would hurt him. “You’re hugging me now, though,” he tried.

“I don’t know why,” came Kise’s almost immediate reply. “But it’s okay if it’s you.”

Aomine almost sputtered, his cheeks heating up for some reason. Before he could respond, Kise was moving around and reaching forward. “Down,” Kise piped, waving his key in the direction of the doorknob. “Go lower.”

Aomine rolled his eyes, but obliged, bending down until Kise slid his key in and opened the door. Aomine grunted when he straightened back up, hefting Kise up his back with a little hop.

Kise chirped and went back to wrapping his arms around Aomine’s neck, and Aomine _did_ sputter under his breath at how nice that felt. He kneed the door open and trudged inside, kicking his shoes off at the entrance with a sigh. Kise’s arm floated up to the side and flipped on a switch, and the lights around the open space lit up.

Aomine raised a brow at how Kise managed to do that without even looking, then felt a small upward tug at a corner of his lips as he walked forward. He considered kicking Kise’s bedroom door open but, as if sensing it, Kise squirmed around and reached for the door, opening it when Aomine bent back down to let him.

Aomine resisted the urge to just dump Kise’s ass on the bed, slowly lowering Kise onto his sheets. Aomine grunted with the effort, swaying unsteadily with his sloshing head, and managed to flop down on the bed with Kise in a tumble of drunken limbs. KIse mumbled, shifting around with his eyes closed, and kept his arms haphazardly slung around Aomine’s neck.

“Man, you’re _really_ clingy right now,” Aomine grumbled, not wanting to move from his weird lying position against Kise. “I couldn’t even put your seatbelt on without you being weird about it.”

“It’s because you’re Aominecchi,” Kise muttered, hands lazily flopping around as Aomine moved to sit up on his elbows. “I love Aominecchi.”

Aomine smirked, feeling a nice warmth swell in his chest. He reached over and fluffed Kise’s hair, running his hand through those soft locks. “Yes, yes,” he sighed. “That’s nice.”

Kise scrunched his face in a childish way, leaning into Aomine’s hand like a puppy. “Mmm, I mean it,” he mumbled.

Aomine let out a humored chuckle. “Alright, thanks,” he managed, holding back a yawn. He vaguely wondered if he’d end up falling asleep waiting for Satsuki to come pick him up—heck, he might fall asleep just waiting for her to answer her phone when he calls. “You should change,” he said, lazily threading his fingers in Kise’s hair.

Kise smiled dazedly against the comfort of Aomine’s palm. “Change me,” he muttered.

“Such a spoiled princess, my god,” Aomine snorted. He considered it for a moment, looking at Kise’s peaceful face, remembering the struggling, pained voice that he let out just a few moments before. “You sure? I’m not sure you want me touching you…”

Kise shook his head, those golden eyes peeking out from under his lashes. Aomine’s throat somehow went dry with how _dark_ Kise’s eyes were, and how intensely he was looking at Aomine, even under the haze of alcohol. “It’s okay because it’s you,” Kise repeated, a warm smile spreading over his lips. “I think.”

Aomine chuckled timidly, just a small titter of air. “You think?”

Kise’s smile deepened, changing into something that Aomine couldn’t quite comprehend with his alcohol-muddled brain. Kise’s arm slowly floated up, his hand moving to hover next to Aomine’s face, tentative. He seemed to consider something, eyes still almost unnervingly rapt with that darkened gaze. Kise seemed to steel himself with a quiet resolve, then gently pressed his hand against Aomine’s cheek. “Mmm,” Kise shook his head, eyes only seeming to be able to focus on Aomine’s. “It’s okay.”

Aomine swallowed, unable to move, locked in Kise’s gaze. He couldn’t seem to form any words, and could only really just keep looking, entranced, at the way Kise seemed to melt away the blurry haze of alcohol, like the way a sunrise would tenderly brighten the fading night. Aomine didn’t know if his heart stopped with how quiet everything seemed to become, but looking at Kise’s eyes, feeling Kise’s palm just barely against his cheek, he knew he was _alive_.

Kise let out an airy chuckle, almost to himself, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s because I love Aominecchi,” he said again, and Aomine was sure that his heart stopped when Kise tugged him lower and pressed his lips against his.

 

[tbc]


	10. It was Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headaches and concealer, and slaps to the face, both literally and figuratively

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO after who knows how long now, an update! Incredibly sorry for the long wait--real life likes to kick my writer ass around trying to make me all responsible--but here's a sort of long update to make up for it! Thank you to those who are still sticking by!

_“What the hell are you doing out here?”_

_Kise stilled, and for the first time since going outside, the cold he felt seemed to crack. He took a deep breath, a small puff of mist floating in front of his mouth as he pulled it into a smile._

_“Aominecchi,” he said, the fingers over his bent knee clenching just slightly. Kise smiled up at Aomine, who approached him with a scowl and cold-flushed cheeks. “I’d ask you the same thing.”_

_Aomine’s lips pulled lower. “Why are you out here?” he said, pointedly looking down at where Kise was seated on the ground, isolated and cold._

_Kise sighed, his smile dropping. “Just wanted some time alone.” He looked at Aomine with what he hoped was an okay enough face, but in all honesty, he was_ tired.

_Aomine continued to frown down at him, shifting on his heels carefully. Kise tried to tug the corners of his lips up, even just a little, and hoped that Aomine would just turn around and leave. Kise didn’t want Aomine to stand there in front of him, looking at him and seeing his weak, pathetic state. He didn’t want to disappoint Aomine any more than he already had. He was tired._

_If Aomine would just stop_ looking _at him, Kise could breathe. If Aomine just walked away, Kise would be able to relax, to just watch Aomine’s back fade away into the distance like he’d always done, and then Kise would just stay there and be alone._

_But Aomine was still there, standing so tall above Kise, his eyes sharp and dark like the sky. Kise crinkled his mouth into something that he was pretty sure felt like a smile, and tilted his head just a little to the side. “Aah, is Aominecchi here to gloat? Please no, I don’t think my poor fragile heart can take it.”_

_Aomine snorted, expression falling into a series of flat lines as he grumbled, “’Poor fragile heart’ my ass—says the guy who sent Sakurai to the bench and nearly fouled our captain out.”_

_Kise blinked at him, and he couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out of his chest, despite everything. “Would have been great if he_ did _foul out,” he sighed, leaning his head back on the wall behind him._

_Aomine grunted, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Anyway, your legs—how do they feel?”_

_“They’re_ fine _,” Kise said immediately, eyes half-lidded as he looked up at Aomine from under his lashes. “Of course I’m tired, but I should be okay if I just rest here for a bit.”_

_“Bullshit,” Aomine snapped, taking another step closer to Kise. “You can’t stand up, can you? My legs are killing me right now—you’re probably no better.”_

_Kise visibly stiffened, his fists tightening and his breath hitching, cold going still in his body. He narrowed his eyes at Aomine, then sighed, defeated. “Fine, you’re right,” Kise leaned back and brought his eyes up to the sky, and he supposed the stars were beautiful that night but they all felt like little pinpricks of mocking. “I can’t move them.” He hadn’t been able to stand ever since collapsing on the ground where he sat—ever since he’d walked away from his team, waving off their concerned looks with a smile, forcing his legs to squeeze out whatever they had left to step outside. And Kise thought he’d gotten used to the pain by the time he reached the exit, but as if the lingering afterglow of the game—of basketball—somehow gave him strength and energy, when he stepped out into the callous cold, it didn’t take long for his legs to give up._

_(No, Kise thought. It wasn’t his legs that gave up—it was him. He gave up bearing the pain, he gave up walking, he gave up standing. He lost to that stupid pain in his legs, he lost to the feeling of uselessness and defeat crushing his chest._

_He lost.)_

_(But Kise was only proud of himself for one thing: that he didn’t cry. He didn’t cry when they lost. He didn’t cry when his teammates yelled at him for apologizing to them. He didn’t cry when everyone applauded them for a good game, a close game._

_He didn’t cry when Aomine shook his hand._

_None of his tears came when the pain had surged like a scalding fire when everything had ended. He didn’t cry when he could barely hold himself together, could barely stand—and he wasn’t crying out there, in the cold, as his legs refused to listen to him._

_Kise won’t cry.)_

_(He_ can’t _.)_

_It was quiet for a few moments, and Kise started feeling the cold start to constrict him all over again, the quiet try to suffocate him. He slid his eyes back down to look at Aomine, and he knew his face was pathetic. Pitiful. A disappointment._

_Aomine shifted his weight on his heels again, and it was cold and dark outside but he seemed just as warm and dazzling to Kise, like a muted sun, amazing as always, and undeniably strong. Kise brought his eyes back down, as if blinded by that sun, and bit his lip to keep from speaking—to keep from telling Aomine to_ leave _, just_ leave _please. He didn’t want him to just stand there, looking at him. He’d already admitted to being pathetically unable to walk, much less stand. He wanted to just snap at him, and tell him to just_ go _._

_But he couldn’t._

_It was after a few moments that Aomine moved, the rustle of his clothes so sharp against Kise’s ears, as if they were judging him, and he wished Aomine was leaving—he_ knew _he would; after all, Kise wasn’t worth waiting for. He wasn’t worth his time._

_(He never was.)_

_But then a bag fell on his lap, bulky with clothes and shoes and black like Aomine’s jersey. Kise reflexively held it, confused, and looked up at Aomine with questioning eyes._

_“Carry my bag.”_

_Kise blinked once, twice. Aomine blinked back, all seriousness and nonchalance. “What,” Kise said stupidly, hands unmoving against Aomine’s bag._

_“Carry my bag.”_

_Kise’s brows knotted, thoroughly stumped. In front of him, Aomine bent his legs a few times, squatting once, twice, thrice, then rolled his shoulders back with a nod._

_“Should be alright,” Aomine muttered, and then strode forward to Kise._

_“What.” Kise repeated, watching Aomine stand right at his feet. “Am I being bullied.”_

_Aomine snorted, leveling Kise with a pointedly straight face. He lowered himself into a half-squat with one knee on the ground, then reached over and slung his bag’s strap over Kise’s head. “I’ll carry you,” Aomine said simply. “So carry my bag.”_

_“Ha?” Kise blinked stupidly, watching as Aomine turned his back to Kise._

_“Get on my back,” he said over his shoulder._

_“_ What _,” Kise’s said, brows high and bewildered. “What the heck—_ no _.”_

_“You can’t fucking stand up, Kise,” Aomine shot, turning slightly to glare at Kise. “Don’t be stubborn and just get on my back.”_

_“I said_ no _,” Kise whined, shoulders tightening as he retreated all of an inch backwards into the wall he was leaning on. “It’s cold, and you’re tired too—don’t bother with me.”_

_Aomine grumbled, turning some more to face Kise and shoot him a stern and exasperated stare. “So how are you planning on getting home? Is someone gonna pick you up?”_

_Kise grimaced. “Not really…”_

_“You think you can make it past two blocks in that state?”_

_“I just need some rest—”_

_“Yeah, no,” Aomine snapped. “It’s late and you obviously can’t walk. Get on my fucking back.”_

_Kise’s brows knotted, heat bubbling in his stomach and spurring him into disgruntled movement. “It’s really not as bad as you think, Aominecchi—”_

_“It’s not as trivial as you think either,” Aomine interrupted. “Look, you don’t want to go to the hospital, right?”—Kise’s head snapped up in surprise—Aomine continued, “And you’re not fucking spending the night out here. So get on my goddamn back or I will call your damn teammates.”_

_Kise reeled back, eyes narrowing. “You don’t know their numbers.”_

_“But Satsuki does,” Aomine retorted. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and let his thumb hover above the screen. “So you’d rather I call them?”_

_Kise gritted his teeth, grunting. “Dammit Aominecchi,” he scowled, fists tightening against the strap of Aomine’s back around his shoulders. “Why are you even doing this?”_

_Aomine ran a hand through his hair, sighing exasperatedly. “Look, I’m too tired to pretend that I don’t give a shit about you,” he growled. “Besides—” Aomine looked straight at Kise, albeit a little sheepishly, and rubbed the back of his neck. “—we_ were _teammates once.”_

_Kise’s eyebrows climbed up, something in his throat catching and his heartbeat faltering. His fingers flexed against the strap of Aomine’s bag, and Kise exhaled a weak, shaky breath, unable to look away from those piercing blue eyes, deep and strong like the ocean at night, easily reflecting the sky and its vastly stretching breadth. Suddenly, Kise saw a familiar Aomine—the teammate he once had, the friend he spent countless nights playing one-on-ones with; the blazing sun that lit the fire in him and brought him to the sport he now loved. To the sport that hurt him as much as it made him feel_ alive _. And at the same time, it was the current Aomine: the endlessly amazing player who only seemed brighter and fiercer as the years went by. It was the Aomine that Kise decided to stop admiring, and the same Aomine that was always so far away. So out of reach, no matter what Kise did. No matter how much Kise wanted to defeat him, to give him a game that would make Aomine proud, a game that would make him_ happy _—Kise just couldn’t. He’d always disappoint. Always be so far away._

_But that acknowledgement, that Aomine still valued the past that they once shared—it kept Kise together. It made him feel like he still had some value, like he had somehow been just a little bit a part of Aomine’s life as he’d always wanted to be. Just a little bit of a significance compared to the others who so stupidly gave up when Aomine defeated them. (_ What did you expect? _Kise thought._ It’s Aominecchi. He wouldn’t lose. Not to you.

Not to anyone.)

_That Aomine was there, waiting for him, looking at him—it was enough. It gripped at Kise’s heart and shook the cold that had encased him, coursing warmth swelling through his chest and down his arms. And Kise sighed, his expression weakening, loosening up into a defeated smile, his eyes unable to look away from Aomine’s as if they were anchored to them. “_ Fine _,” Kise said. “Okay.”_

_Aomine huffed, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and shifting to turn around. Kise sighed, running his hands through his hair, and tried to will his legs to move. He sucked in a breath when all he got was trembling heaviness and throbbing pain, as if his legs were made of lead and were being held down by a vice grip. He sighed again and looked forward, seeing Aomine’s broad back turned to him, waiting._

_(_ I’m not worth it. _)_

_Kise adjusted his and Aomine’s bags to hang over his back, and Aomine inched closer. “Spread your legs,” Aomine said._

_“Pervert!” Kise scoffed, a defeated corner of his lips quirking just a little bit higher._

_“I’ll hit you.”_

_“So violent,” Kise chided, holding his breath as he managed to at least move his legs outwards a little. “I can’t believe Erominecchi is bullying me.”_

_Kise yelped when Aomine brought a chop down on Kise’s head, hands immediately flying up to his hair. “Mean, Aominecchi! Mean!”_

_Aomine stuck his hand under Kise’s and ruffled his hair, and Kise sputtered and flailed but everything started to feel warm again. “Shut up and let’s go,” Aomine snorted, turning back around and scooting closer._

_“Okay, okay,” Kise huffed, heaving his back off of the wall and putting his hands on Aomine’s shoulders. He leaned forward, sliding his arm around Aomine’s neck, and Aomine moved to allow Kise to let his weight fall over Aomine’s back, both of them feeling warm from the contact._

_Aomine hooked his hands under Kise’s knees and tugged. Kise sucked in a breath at the pain that shot up his legs, but continued to stand as well as he could with Aomine helping him._

_“Does it hurt?” Aomine asked._

_Kise bit his lip against a wince. “Yeah, but I’m good.”_

_Aomine grunted in response, leaning forward and pulling Kise’s legs up around him. In one swift movement, Aomine stood up, bearing Kise’s full weight as Kise instinctively brought his arms around Aomine, hugging tight as he was lifted off of the ground._

_Aomine huffed, staggering forward a few steps, then straightened. “Okay?”_

_Kise hummed, nodding, and Aomine tightened his grip around Kise’s legs and started to walk._

_There were barely any people around, the chilly air wafting around them like an invisible sea. Puffs of mist faded in and out of every breath they took as it got colder, and the breadth of Aomine’s back gave Kise a tender warmth that seemed to thaw his earlier misery._

_“You’re shivering,” Aomine said, and if Kise wasn’t so close and knew Aomine as much as he did, he wouldn’t think that Aomine was tired at all from the game—but he was walking slowly, steps heavy and almost dragging, and Kise knew that Aomine was in pain and he wanted to tell him to stop but he_ couldn’t _._

_“I’m fine,” Kise mumbled, ducking his head. “I’m okay.” (If he repeated it enough, maybe he_ would _be.)_

_Aomine was quiet, content with the warmth that Kise shared. He kept his eyes forward, leaning his head just a little closer to Kise’s. Almost as if being pulled in, Kise pressed his head into Aomine’s shoulder, lightly bumping the side of Aomine’s head with his own._

_Aomine exhaled, relaxing into Kise’s warmth. They fell into a comfortable silence, nothing but Aomine’s steps and their breathing humming into the air. It was as if they hadn’t just practically waged war on the court against each other, in a game that would soon be known as one of the fiercest, most electrifying and intense matches in Winter Cup history. It was just the two of them, just old teammates, friends. It was like being home._

_Kise’s disconsolate thoughts seemed to have been pushed into a corner, overshadowed by the feeling of Aomine’s back against Kise’s chest, the steady rise and fall of his breaths like the gentle laps of the sea’s waves. Kise was sure he was going to start getting lost in his dark and chaotic thoughts, but all he felt was a steady heaviness in his chest, like a glass filled to the brim, just barely keeping everything in. All he felt was the definite warmth of Aomine—of his actions, seemingly thawing the icy cold that seeped under Kise’s skin._

_Kise bit his lip. He didn’t want to be so useless, so helpless, least of all with Aomine. He was supposed to be_ strong _, the unwavering ace. He was supposed to finally win against Aomine, but he didn’t and he couldn’t stand up, and he was being carried by the ace who defeated him._

_But instead of feeling even worse, it was okay. Being with Aomine like this, like they were teammates again—like they were friends again—it was okay._

_Kise’s fists clenched, and he closed his eyes. He really was shaking—from the cold or from something else, Kise wasn’t sure—and Aomine seemed to notice, pressing his arms closer, gripping the back of his knees more firmly. He let Kise hug him just a little bit tighter, both of them keeping each other warm. Kise kept his eyes screwed shut, burying his head into Aomine’s shoulder, and breathed._

_“Hey,” Aomine said quietly._

_Kise just barely shifted his head in acknowledgement. Aomine’s steps slowed. “The game a while ago,” Aomine continued._

_Even against the shivering, Kise stiffened, faltering._

_Aomine exhaled, and his voice was sincere when he said, “It was fun.”_

_Kise didn’t say anything, only a shaky breath escaping his lips. Aomine continued to walk, keeping Kise close, and if he felt the tears that slid down Kise’s cheek and onto his shoulder, he didn’t mention it._

_#_

 

It was pleasantly warm, the kind of warm that was like snuggling under a thick blanket during a cold rainy day, and the curtains filtered a gentle light through the windows, everything feeling much like a perfect morning—

—at least, if Kise’s head wasn’t throbbing like a _bitch_.

Kise woke up to a more or less wonderful day, but his head felt like it had been tied to a rock and thrown into the bottom of the ocean, and he groaned when his world spun at the slightest movement.

Gingerly, Kise heaved himself up, a hand over his face as he tried to settle his spinning head. It took him a few moments to muffle the pain throbbing in his skull, and he slowly blinked his eyes open with a sigh.

Without much thought, Kise looked around his room, taking comfort in the gentle way the light streamed through his windows and the soft shadows blanketing him. He took a deep breath, trying to blink his eyes more awake, and relished in the nice warmth that laid over his stomach. Kise shifted a little, looking down, and felt the brush of something other than his sheets against his skin, and then—

Kise’s mind stalled. His eyes snapped awake when he noticed that he wasn’t wearing clothes. His vision caught sight of the said clothes haphazardly flung in the general area of the bed and the ground beside it, and against the fair skin of his stomach, was tan.

Kise sucked in a breath, barely muffling the scream that threatened to tumble out of his mouth, and he went rigid with a start as he looked at how Aomine’s arm was wrapped around his waist, his similarly bare torso sticking out from under the sheets as Aomine quietly slept beside him.

Kise’s thoughts had all but turned into a mantra of _what the fuck what the fuck—_ and his heart thrashed in his chest, brain unable to process much apart from Aomine lying beside him, more or less naked, with an arm loosely laid over Kise’s stomach. Kise felt frozen under that warm touch, his mind suddenly at war with whether he had to get the fuck away or feel comforted about the way Aomine holding him like that felt strangely nice.

He swallowed, tense all over, and tried to calm down, taking a deep, shaky breath. Kise thought back—they had dinner, Aomine was in black, they talked and laughed a lot, and the meat was good, the _wine_ was good and—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kise cursed under his breath. He got drunk. He went and drank way too much alcohol. Their conversations were just too engrossing and light that Kise had just gone and kept drinking. And Aomine definitely had higher tolerance for alcohol than Kise did, and Kise was definitely _not_ reliable at all when he was drunk—he _could_ _not_ trust himself in that state, _especially_ with someone he could already barely hide anything from.

Kise ran his hands through his hair, breaths shaky and unsteady as he stayed hyper-aware of Aomine sleeping next to him and the arm still over his waist. Kise tried to rack his brain, tried to _remember—_

_What the fuck happened last night?_

They had gone through so much wine, so much conversations, and Kise barely remembered what he told Aomine, but the image of Aomine’s smile, when he drank or when his brows furrowed when he laughed—they were almost crystal clear in Kise’s memory, almost glowing—and Kise remembered the way Aomine pulled his lips around a bite of meat, or the way he pressed them against the edge of his glass as he drank, thinking that maybe those lips were soft, that maybe they tasted of wine.

Kise remembered getting flung around in the car ( _Ah, Tanaka-san was driving_ ), and feeling like he was floating, except with a nice warmth snug against his body. And he hugged that warmth close, recognized Aomine’s scent, the soft tufts of his short hair, and the strength in his hands tucked under Kise’s knees.

Then Kise was in his room, he had fallen somewhere and it felt like he was both lighter than air and sinking underwater, under a calm lulling deep. Aomine’s hand was in Kise’s hair, fingers running through the soft locks in a way that reminded Kise of how his sister would do it, in that way that made him feel at home. And Kise remembered Aomine’s lips again, curving into a lazy smile, teeth flashing when he laughed, and Kise had wondered how those lips might feel like, if they were as soft as they looked, or if they still tasted like wine—

_“It’s because I love Aominecchi.”_

All at once, Kise’s heart dropped down to his feet and whiplashed back up his chest, bringing up a torrent of blood rushing to his face at the memory of Aomine’s face getting close—no, Kise had pulled him close—and the sweet taste of lips. Kise’s heart started to race, loud and panicked, as the memories attacked him in a flurry of half-indistinct fragments: the press of lips, the shift of the bed, Kise’s hands fisted in a black shirt, fingers against navy blue hair; Aomine’s hand behind his neck, in his hair, electric sparks coursing through Kise’s skin—

Suddenly, Aomine stirred, edging closer and gripping Kise’s waist tighter. Kise gasped, tensing, and held his breath for a few moments as Aomine softly pressed his hand into Kise’s side, hugging him warmly. When Aomine relaxed, Kise exhaled, unable to move for almost a whole minute until he forced his body to tentatively squirm away from Aomine’s hold.

Nervously, Kise brought his hands down to Aomine’s arm, sliding a hand under his palm as gently as he could. Kise’s heart stuttered, feeling the pleasant warmth of Aomine’s hand against his, and the way he could feel Aomine breathing deep and even beside him. Kise turned to properly look at Aomine for the first time since almost getting a panic attack, and stared.

The light was touching Aomine’s face in the softest of ways, casting gentle shadows against the curves and edges of his features. He was sound asleep, breaths coming and going like soft morning waves, and he had the most peaceful, calm expression, everything about him relaxed and at home.

Before he’d realized it, Kise’s racing heart had slowed, and his breathing had evened out, matching the steady rise and fall of Aomine’s chest. All of a sudden, Kise felt calmed, just watching Aomine, and despite everything, he felt that it was okay. Aomine sleeping there, with his arm around him, his hand against Kise’s—it was all okay.

Kise sighed. He continued to stare at Aomine’s sleeping face, the way he was curled on his side, the way his hand was tucked under the pillow. And Kise felt his breath stutter when Aomine’s fingers curled inwards, wrapping around Kise’s hand, and Kise felt his face start to heat up all over again, but he didn’t feel like moving away.

He didn’t know how long he just sat there watching Aomine sleep, their hands loosely linked, and Kise didn’t realize when he’d brought his other hand to stroke Aomine’s head, running his palm against those short tufts of dark blue. Kise felt warm, and he bit his lip as his heart seemed to swell, but then he startled with a jolt when he heard a door open from outside his bedroom.

The movement jerked Aomine, but Kise could barely notice him start to wake when he practically stumbled off his bed, scrambling for the nearest pair of sweats he could find. He felt his heart start to ricochet all over his ribcage, faltering for a moment when he heard Aomine grumbling against the pillows. He spun his head around to check, immediately regretting it when a wave of dizziness and throbbing pain hit his head. Kise staggered, starting to panic again as Aomine gradually stirred awake, and he bumbled noisily as he put some pants over his boxers.

“Ryouta?” came Haizaki’s voice from outside.

Kise groaned, bracing a hand on the edge of his bed in an effort to allay his returning headache. “Shougo?” he called weakly, shooting a glance at Aomine, who was definitely starting to wake up. All over again Kise felt his stomach do backflips, everything and the headache effectively rendering him confused and decidedly screwed.

“You awake?” he heard Haizaki say, uncertain, probably about a few feet from the bedroom door. “Is anyone else in there?”

Kise bit his lip. Haizaki probably saw Aomine’s shoes by the entrance, seeing as how only Kise’s shoes were in his room. “…yes?” he answered with a grimace.

There was a pause before Haizaki’s voice sounded, a step or two closer. “Is it Daiki?”

Kise put his hands on his face. “…yes?”

A longer pause. Kise half hoped that Haizaki decided to leave, but he also wanted to explain, except he didn’t know _what_ to explain—he wasn’t even sure what the hell _happened_. And with what he remembered, or at least he _thought_ he remembered, Kise wasn’t too keen on sharing with Haizaki either.

But then there was a bit of shuffling, and Haizaki spoke again, just a little bit louder. “ _Are you decent?_ ”

Kise flushed, jumping to his feet. “Oh my god,” he cried, zipping to his door and swinging it open. “It’s not what you think,” he said immediately, finding Haizaki a little ways from the door, body angled towards the living room.

Haizaki blinked at him, eyes immediately going from Kise’s face to his bare chest then to his pants. “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Haizaki said, eyebrow raised. “Had a good night?”

Kise grimaced, feeling his headache throb harder as if in response. “Um, well…”

Kise paused when Haizaki’s eyebrows climbed even higher up, eyes wide and directed towards somewhere right over Kise’s shoulder. Kise felt his stomach flop again, and he turned, finding Aomine ambling over with half-lidded eyes and definitely nothing but his boxers. He was rubbing the back of his head and his hair was sticking out in a bunch of places, and Kise vaguely thought it was pretty cute but he was otherwise starting to sink into a freshened state of panic.

“ _Oh_ ,” Haizaki coughed, stiffly averting his head. “Did you two…”

Kise jerked. “ _What no—_ ”

“Oh uh,” Haizaki coughed again, more roughly, taking an unconscious step back. “Were you _about to_ …?”

“ _Shougo no._ ”

Haizaki cleared his throat, a corner of his lips twitching just a little bit up. “Er, well, I can— _go_ —I should go, huh.” Kise flailed, already moving to stop Haizaki, then Haizaki’s shoulders relaxed, just a little, as a smirk played at his lips. “Unless you want me to stay and watch—“ Haizaki’s smile was part leer and part mocking. “I could be into that.”

“ _SHOUGO_ ,” Kise wailed, burying his face in his hands as Haizaki snorted a short chuckle.

“Anyway, here,” Haizaki said, handing Kise a glass of water with a fizzing tablet at the bottom. “For your headache.”

Kise blinked down at the glass, then back up at Haizaki. “How’d you know—”

“Kind of expected you’d get drunk,” Haizaki shrugged, peering around Kise to stare flatly at Aomine, who was groggily wandering out of Kise’s bedroom with his eyes closed. When Haizaki moved his eyes back to Kise, he visibly stiffened.

“Shougo?” Kise said, tilting his head in question.

Haizaki very distinctly snapped his eyes up to look at Kise’s. There was a faint flush on his cheeks as he swallowed. “Uh,” Haizaki cleared his throat. “It’s nine.”

Kise’s brows furrowed as he drank. After a few moments of confusedly watching Haizaki try to compose himself, he cocked his head to the side again, questioning.

“New gym. At ten. New trainer,” Haizaki provided disjointedly.

Kise’s eyes immediately flew wide, and he jerked as if he’d been shocked. “ _Fuck_ ,” he swore, shoving his emptied glass at Haizaki and stumbling towards his bathroom. “Fuck shit crap why didn’t you wake me up sooner—”

“I just got here,” Haizaki responded, still not quite fully recovered. “Besides, if you didn’t wake up from your alarm then that’s your fault. Getting drunk too.”

Kise grumbled incoherently as he brisk walked to the bathroom, trying not to shake his head around even more than his mind had been spinning.

“ _Ryouta_ ,” Haizaki called.

Kise turned just in time to be met with a face full of towel, and he vaguely muttered a thanks as he retreated to his bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door.

He braced a hand on the edge of the sink as the world tipped around a few times, and he took deep breaths to calm down. It was just nine—his first appointment’s at ten. He had enough time to take a shower and dress up. Never mind breakfast—his stomach would probably disagree, and he could just snack on some of the protein bars he still had in the fridge. He was the kind of guy whose hangover didn’t last that long, so it shouldn’t be obvious—

Kise froze, eyes widening at his own reflection. No, he didn’t look sleepy or as if he’d been drunk out of his head, but at the side of his neck, and on his collarbone, were small _bruises_. Too small to have been caused by any kind of impact, and too big to have been some kind of bug bite.

Images of tan skin against his, and short locks of dark blue hair ticking the side of his head invaded Kise’s mind, and his fingers shakily hovered over the small marks as he recalled the feeling of lips against his neck, his skin, blazing heat and electricity where that warm mouth tasted him.

_“It’s because I love Aominecchi.”_

Kise’s face flared. Aomine. Aomine was right outside, wearing nothing but his boxers, and Kise had no idea what the fuck happened last night but he couldn’t dismiss the near clear memory of wine-sweet lips against his, or the calloused hand in his hair, behind his neck, trailing down his side, under his shirt—

Kise swore under his breath, his face completely hot, and he tumbled into his bathroom and showered in cold water. He stood there for a few moments, relaxing under the icy torrent, and closed his eyes, trying to clear his head enough to absently clean himself up. He couldn’t for the life of him stop _thinking_ about the way Aomine was so, so close, and the way their lips had moved against each other, the way those warm hands snaked under Kise’s shirt, or the firmness of Aomine’s strong back against Kise’s palms. All Kise could remember was how warm it felt, how it seemed like a match had lit inside him and sparked into a consuming fire. There were groans and hissed breaths, tongue on tongue, skin on skin, the bed dipping as Aomine lowered himself closer, closer—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kise hissed, pressing his forehead against the chilly marble, and the water against his skin was cold but his body felt like it was burning, his chest on fire, swelling at his heart and crawling up his neck. He groaned weakly, feeling his heart beat loudly in his chest.

Okay. So that happened. At least Kise _thought_ that that happened. His drunk-ass self went and did something incredibly stupid—to _Aomine_ of all people. _With_ Aomine. Kise wished Aomine didn’t remember _anything_ , because Kise didn’t know what to _do_. He didn’t know how to face Aomine, knowing what he did—what _they_ did—and he didn’t know what to _say_. Kise wished Aomine was the kind of drunk that just rolled with whatever was going on, and then forgot everything the next day. Kise wished that those bits and pieces that he remembered were just fantasies conjured up by his muddled and intoxicated brain. But he knew that something _did_ happen, that there were definitely hickeys on his skin; and he could still clearly remember how it felt to have Aomine against him, and the warmth in Aomine’s hands that seemed to seep into Kise’s bones.

Despite it all, Kise wished he could remember _everything_ that happened.

Heat pooled at Kise’s stomach, and he let out a quivering breath. _How long has it been?_

Kise shuddered, bowing his head lower against the wall. His hand came up to his neck, and behind his eyelids he could see tan skin and piercing blue eyes, hazy with alcohol and dark with desire, a gaze so rapt and piercing that Kise almost couldn’t take it.

Kise let out a shaky breath, his heart stuttering out of rhythm. He brought his other hand against his chest, and slid his fingers down, vague images flashing in his head as if recalled with his touch—a warm palm at his side, slipped under his shirt; a firm grip at his waist, lips against his abs, trailing lower, lower—

Kise bit his lip, pressing his forehead harder against the tile. His breaths shook, inhales and exhales heavy and hot, and Kise’s lips parted with an almost inaudible gasp as his eyelids fluttered, his gaze falling down at himself.

_(“Kise…”_

_“Aominecchi, I—!”)_

Kise’s eyes screwed shut, heat pooling down from his chest to his stomach. Behind his eyelids he could see Aomine over him, and Kise’s hand floating up to pull him down. Again, he remembered those lips: the way they tasted, the way they felt against his mouth, his neck, his chest, and Kise groaned. His hand slid down, just barely tentative, to wrap around himself, his jaw going slack as a hot breath escaped his lips. Kise panted, the insistent clawing of his restraint getting smothered by the building heat at the pit of his stomach, the phantom touches and kisses from that night sparking memories that only made him fall deeper, reduced to raw pleasure and arousal and gasps wrapped around Aomine’s name.

“ _Aomine…_ ” Kise breathed, grinding his forehead into the wall. He let himself submit to those fleeting desires, allowed for those memories and fantasies to stay, just for a while, like bittersweet wine in his head. He knew it would only hurt—and it _did_ hurt—but he held onto Aomine’s gaze, that rapt focus that seemed to seep through his bones, and Aomine’s kiss—all as if they were what pumped blood through Kise’s veins and made his heart beat, made him _alive_.

 

#

 

“If anyone actually did that to you, they’d probably be dead in the morning.”

Kise frowned, rubbing his freshly slapped stinging red cheeks. “Naw, you exaggerate,” he told Haizaki.

“It’s a possibility,” Haizaki shrugged. “You’ve got five minutes, by the way.”

“Geh— _really_?” Kise grunted, scrambling off to his shoes.

“You took too long in there,” Haizaki raised a brow, scanning Kise’s face, and the area around his neck.

Kise flushed, turning away and buttoning his shirt up. “It took a while to—put the concealer,” he muttered. “Which I’m running out of, apparently.”

“Well,” Haizaki cleared his throat, grabbing his jacket. “You, er, covered up good enough.”

Kise tried to ignore the heat he felt crawl down his neck. “Learned from the best,” he said, focusing on the sting in his cheeks to get his shit together. The headache was mostly gone, and his mind was struggling to whir into proper motion, but he was getting there as best he could, despite everything.

His brain may have short-circuited a little bit, though, when Aomine walked into view, wearing Kise’s shirt.

Kise sputtered, almost tripping over his feet with the shock. “A-Aominecchi!” he tried, the smile on his face feeling more than a little bit off. “Good morning!”

Aomine’s bleary eyes narrowed at Kise, his brows furrowing as if he were squinting at too-bright light. “Mm,” he grunted, blinking really heavy sleep off of his eyes. “Mornin’ sunshine.”

Kise couldn’t help the smile stretching wider on his lips. He ignored the heat in his cheeks and the tightening in his chest, a little too aware of the uneasy shift of his stance and the previous night’s…activities still hanging uncertainty around them.

“Three minutes,” Haizaki called.

Kise jerked, scurrying to grab his phones and wallet and stuffing them into his pockets. “Ah, sorry Aominecchi,” Kise smiled sheepishly, bustling around looking for his jacket. “I have a thing,” he said, trying to keep himself from stealing glances at the way his shirt hugged Aomine’s shoulders and arms, unbuttoned and hanging open to reveal his chest. Kise also tried not to crash into any of his furniture when he noticed the small red marks at Aomine’s neck, just like the ones on his own. Kise spluttered, face flaring, and physically turned away from Aomine, meeting Haizaki’s shifty, pointed gaze. Kise swallowed, pursing his lips, and gingerly turned back to Aomine.

“I—have to go,” Kise said, pulling his lips into a smile. “But you can stay if you want. There’s food in the fridge. Just lock up if you’re leaving.”

Aomine blinked at him, rubbing the back of his neck as he seemed to search Kise’s face. Aomine hummed an absentminded affirmation, and then his eyes landed on Kise’s throat.

The way Aomine’s expression visibly shifted from slow, sleepy consciousness to too-clear recognition and recollection made Kise’s heart thump loudly in his chest and pool heat all over his cheeks. All of his doubts that Aomine might have forgotten all the shit that Kise got up to that night disappeared right then, and when Aomine’s hand reflexively flew up to his own neck, exactly where those small red marks were, Kise felt like evaporating on the spot. Overheating and turning into steam and just disappearing.

“Let’s _go_ ,” Haizaki barked, loudly pulling the door open. He reached forward to grab Kise’s collar, making him chirp in surprise, and tugged.

“A-alright, got it,” Kise stuttered, stumbling towards the door. He forcefully turned away from Aomine and swallowed hard, not quite sure what to do, barely even able to _think_.

“Kise.”

A small electric zap seemed to jolt through Kise, hearing Aomine call his name, awake and firm. Kise turned, couldn’t help but turn, and met Aomine’s eyes, suddenly leagues sharper and more alert than he’d been just a few moments before, the determined set to his brow making a lump form in Kise’s throat.

Aomine stared at him, in that focused way that reminded Kise so much of the images—the memories—in his head. “Later, I—we need to talk.”

Kise’s eyes widened a fraction, the lump in his throat dropping heavily down the pit of his stomach. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and nodded.

Aomine nodded back, shifting his weight onto one leg, and if there were insistent specks of doubt still clinging in Kise’s mind about what Aomine meant, the faint flush on Aomine’s cheeks brushed them all away.

An invisible wall fell in front of Kise, reflexively shutting himself off from Aomine; from his own emotions. It was like a defense mechanism that he’d unwittingly developed—his celebrity mask, the one where he was an actor—a damn good one—his smile pulled smoothly over his face in a copy of optimism too naïve and hopeful.

“I’ll be going then,” Kise said, unflinching even at the furrow in Aomine’s brow.

“Take care,” Aomine grunted, eyes scrutinizing. Concerned. “See you.”

Kise stretched his smile just a little wider, and he turned, unable to face Aomine any longer—not when the wall he’d put up cracked and collapsed at Aomine’s concern just as quickly as it came.

 

#

 

Sometimes Haizaki wondered if Kise didn’t understand the extent of his own strength, or if he was actually a masochist, or a plain idiot (that last one, he could easily believe)—either way, Haizaki found that he sometimes had to protect Kise from _himself_ , and most recent of all, from his goddamn face slaps.

“S-sorry,” Kise muttered, shrinking into the passenger seat of the car. He eyed Haizaki’s hands on the steering wheel, the backs of them painfully red and definitely stinging.

Haizaki grunted, focusing on driving fast and not catching sight of Kise in the corner of his vision, the latter of which impossible with Kise sitting _right there_ looking at him. “I swear to god one day you’re going to slap your cheeks open and bleed out from your face.”

Kise shifted in his seat, and Haizaki was sure he was pouting. “Aw come on, it’s not _that_ hard…”

“It feels like the backs of my hands are gonna _bruise_ ,” Haizaki grumbled. “Were you _trying_ to slap your face open?”

“Of course not,” Kise frowned. “I just…wanted to really get my head in the game. After…last night and all.” Kise squirmed in his seat, absently fiddling with his seatbelt. “Besides, you didn’t have to get your hands in between the smacks.”

“Your hands were too far on the wind-up,” Haizaki said, stepping on the gas and ignoring the tightening in his chest. “If I didn’t protect that stupid pretty face of yours, Rika would skin me.” He rounded a corner and drove up to a gate with a small guardhouse. It only took one glance for the guard to recognize them and allow them in, and Haizaki straightened in his seat to peer around for their parking spot.

“Left, the one near Studio B,” Kise stated absently. “Well you didn’t have to head butt me after.”

Haizaki snorted, driving the car to one side. “Yeah, no, you at least deserved that, dumbass.”

Kise clicked his seatbelt off as Haizaki parked. “Meanie.”

Haizaki rolled his eyes, shutting off the engine and unfastening his seatbelt. He reached around to grab a folder and jacket in the backseat, mentally cursing at himself when he realized he forgot to finish reading all the relevant papers for the day.

“But it had the same effect as my face slaps so I forgive you,” Kise hummed. “Even though your head’s as hard as a door.”

Haizaki tilted his head up and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath to keep from strangling Kise where he sat. The blonde little shit actually _snickered_ , however, so Haizaki ended up pinching his cheek.

“ _Ow ow ow! It hurts!_ ” Kise cried, grabbing at Haizaki’s arm and flailing.

Haizaki released his cheek when tears clung to the corners of Kise’s eyes, then flicked Kise’s forehead, making him yelp. “There, I helped you out some more,” Haizaki sneered. “Now let’s go.”

He stepped out of the car and locked it after Kise shut the passenger door. He rolled his eyes at Kise’s childish pouting and grumbling, and pulled on his jacket as they approached their guides and production staff.

By the time Haizaki bowed in greeting, Kise had already composed himself into the dashing celebrity that he was, his smile warm and attractive, his stance graceful and strong. Haizaki tried not to look at his neck, which he knew was dotted with small hickeys, but otherwise got distracted watching the way Kise’s lips formed into a smile, around words sweet and charming. He got distracted remembering the flush on Kise’s face when he’d opened his bedroom door to him that morning, and felt heat pulse at his chest remembering the red and blue marks on his neck and collar standing out against fair skin.

Haizaki grit his teeth and clenched his fist, tight enough so that his nails dug into the flesh of his palm. He sucked in a breath and let it out in a huff, as if he could expel his stupid distractions and feelings with that exhale. He smothered the stupid dull throb in his chest and mentally kicked himself to get his fucking head in his work, and dutifully followed their guides into the studio gym where they were supposed to be introduced to Kise’s new trainer, who Haizaki was supposed to read up on but was too distracted that previous night to do.

Haizaki’s brow furrowed in annoyance, the crease in his forehead deepening when his eyes landed on the nape of Kise’s neck, where golden hair met smooth skin. Images of a hand gliding over that neck flittered through Haizaki’s brain uninvited, the hand tracing down the path of Kise’s spine and resting at the small of his back, the graceful curve flanked by a trim waist and angled hips.

Haizaki felt his blood flare with heat, not the least of which from anger at himself, and neither from the aching in his chest—the one he’d managed to soothe some years ago, yet is coming back just as easily as the ticking of the clock.

“Let me introduce the new trainer,” one of the heads told them, and Haizaki was barely able to focus his thoughts as he followed their line of sight.

Then, the heavy, rumbling, almost deafening noise in Haizaki’s head suddenly stopped. Everything seemed to go quiet, all his muddled thoughts clearing up like storm clouds being swept away by the sun. He may have even stopped breathing, and his eyes definitely went wide.

Kise’s new trainer stepped forward wearing a strict scowl and an all too familiar face, one that made Haizaki’s heart thump a loud, resonating beat in his chest, flowing life through his veins but otherwise keeping him shock still.

The man’s lips curled up in a smirk, steel eyes regarding him with pleased familiarity. The other trainer at his side finished shaking Kise’s hand, then whispered to his colleague in English, “ _Come on, introduce yourself_.”

The man’s smile warmed into amusement as he sighed. Instead of bowing, he extended his hand. Haizaki couldn’t even look down at it, his eyes stuck on that face he hadn’t seen for years—didn’t think he’d _see_ for years, or ever, for that matter. When he spoke, it was that same, deep voice that was as sharp as his eyes, and as strong as his stance.

“Nijimura Shuuzou,” he said with a smirk. “I look forward to working with you.”

 

_[tbc]_


	11. I'm Right Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving, coming back, and staying are all different things with different outcomes, and sometimes walking gets tricky depending on the situation—but always, it starts with a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First update of the year! S-sorry again for the wait ;; Hope you all enjoyed the holidays!

Haizaki was no Kise—much less a celebrity—but he knew how to keep up appearances, _especially_ in the entertainment business. He’d know more than the average person, even, since he was so closely involved with some of the frontrunners in the field. Haizaki would even say he’s gotten a pretty good handle on it, and the fact that he still had his job was cold hard proof of that.

Haizaki _was_ Haizaki, however, so sometimes he would decide a resolute “fuck it” and do whatever the hell suited him, appearances be damned. The fact that he still had his job either way was a testament to just how damn lucky he is to be allowed at Kise’s side, shitty personality and all.

That said, he probably should have expected karma to eventually bite back like a bitch, but Haizaki definitely did _not_ expect it to happen in the form of a certain ex-captain unceremoniously stepping right into his life just as easily as he’d left.

“ _What the fuck_ ,” Haizaki growled. “Are you doing here?”

The ill-concealed venom in Haizaki’s voice made the others around them flinch in surprise. Kise only snorted out an airy snicker, while Nijimura’s brow twitched, immediately—almost reflexively—annoyed.

“I see you’re still a punk, huh,” Nijimura sneered. As if on instinct, Haizaki tensed defensively, and he inwardly cursed at how he _still_ had that reaction with him.

Beside him, Kise was saying something about how Nijimura was a _senpai_ from middle school, and how it’s been years since they’ve last seen each other, and that it was a surprise that he was there. At some point, the others shuffled away to give them some time to catch up, but Haizaki could barely spare them any attention when those sharp eyes seemed to freeze him solid.

Haizaki huffed, brows furrowing. “Why the f—”

“Nijimura-san!” Kise jumped in, his glee rolling off of him in waves. He grinned with pure, unfiltered delight. “Long time no see! It’s been _years_ ,” he gushed, leaning forward and bumping shoulders with Haizaki.

Haizaki couldn’t suppress the way he flinched at the contact, shoulders tightening for half a second as his body got caught in between jerking away or leaning into that warmth, and almost on reflex, Haizaki grit his teeth at his own stupid reaction, brows knotting and his frown deepening. When he shifted away from Kise in what he hoped didn’t look as conflicted as he felt, he was met with steel eyes looking straight at him.

Nijimura stared at him, one brow raised inquisitively. His gaze lingered for a moment, in that same way that always meant he could see right through Haizaki, then he turned back to Kise.

“I’ve been in America the whole time, after all,” Nijimura shrugged. He looked at both Kise and Haizaki, a small, pleased smirk curling up his lips. “And it looks like a lot has changed.”

Haizaki glanced at Kise just as Kise glanced at him, and Haizaki’s frown deepened as he tore his eyes away from Kise’s stupid grin in favor of glaring at Nijimura again.

“Well, we’ll have a lot of chances to catch up,” Kise said delightedly, shifting his weight from one leg to another. “I’m so happy _you’re_ my new trainer!” Kise paused, considering. “Or. Well. Maybe not. I’m probably going to go through some Spartan training huh.”

Nijimura grinned. “Probably.”

Kise grimaced, looking just a tad less excited. “Well in any case, I’m glad to see you again.” He opened his mouth to say something more but was cut short by his phone vibrating in his pocket. Kise pulled it out and peeked at the screen from his hip, and his eyes visibly lit up.

“What is it?” Haizaki asked, if only to distract himself from the feeling of restlessness that had been speeding up his heart and rattling his limbs.

“It’s from Aominecchi,” Kise said. He couldn’t quite control the way his lips wanted to form a smile, and Haizaki could see the excitement just piling up in Kise as if he were a fire being fed some wood. “I’m free tonight, right?”

Haizaki’s brows knotted together, and he had to shut his eyes to wrack his brain into proper movement ( _stop thinking about Nijimura suddenly appearing; stop thinking about those marks on Kise’s neck_ ). He was annoyed at how _slow_ he managed to respond, and grunted, “Yeah. If you finish your five o’clock early you should be free at around eight. Why?”

“Aominecchi and Kagamicchi are going to have dinner with the others tonight,” Kise said. “If you’re free, you wanna come too?”

Haizaki grimaced. “Hell no.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Kise pouted, twisting into Haizaki’s view.

Haizaki pushed his face away with a grumble. “I said no, I don’t want to eat with you lot. Stop that face.”

Kise’s lip only jutted out further, but he straightened back up with a sigh. “Fine, be that way,” he huffed. “Ah! Nijimura-san, what about you? Do you want to come? They’re gonna be happy to see you too! I’ve gotta tell them you’re here—”

Nijimura chuckled, putting his hand out on Kise’s hair and ruffling it. “Slow down there, tiger,” he smirked, eyes sparkling with both joy and amusement. “I can’t tonight. Still have to sort out a few things. Also—” he said, shifting his eyes to Haizaki and making him flinch. Nijimura reached forward and grabbed Haizaki’s collar, dragging him under his arm in one smooth motion. “This punk’s gonna be busy helping me out.”

“ _Hah?!_ ” Haizaki sputtered, struggling under NIjimura’s grasp— _damn_ his arm was fucking strong. “Let go, dammit—who the fuck said I’m ‘ _helping you out_ ’, you—”

“ _I_ did, punk-ass,” Nijimura spat. He tightened his hold on Haizaki for a short moment, not by way of forcing him down, but in a nudge—the kind that made Haizaki calm down with a grunt, feeling a familiar, almost comforting warmth: a strong pillar to lean on, just as much as Nijimura was holding him up. Haizaki glanced at Nijimura, and his former-captain’s eyes were soft; understanding.

Haizaki looked away, if only to keep NIjimura from seeing right through him any more than he already has. He exhaled a deep sigh through his nose, shutting his eyes for a beat, then felt the warmth of NIjimura’s arm loosen.

Haizaki weakly shoved his arm away, straightening up with a grumble. “Goddammit,” he spat, sidestepping away from both Nijimura and Kise. He turned to his stupid blonde charge and fixed him a look. “We’ll talk about your dinner later—I’ll let Tanaka-san know. He’ll be driving you since I’ll apparently _‘be busy’_ tonight.”

Kise blinked, eyes darting between Nijimura and Haizaki a few times, then smiled a small, gentle smile that kicked at Haizaki’s heart. “Got it, boss,” Kise said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and stepping back, grinning at both of them. “Let’s get back to work, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Haizaki huffed, feeling himself relax just at the sight of Kise being bright and happy and at ease. Despite everything, it calmed him, and allowed Haizaki to accept that weight settling heavily against his chest. He didn’t ignore it, not as Kise looked a hundred megawatts brighter just from a text, not as Haizaki recalled the unconscious brush of fingers on Kise’s cheek, or the hidden marks on Kise’s neck. Haizaki let the weight wrap around his heart and make his limbs both heavier and stronger, and he let it all be.

A gentle warmth landed on Haizaki’s head, and then his head was shaking, hair mussing up as strong fingers tousled through it. Haizaki stammered as he looked up to see Nijimura smiling at him, with that same crooked smirk curved softly into a fond, almost tender expression.

“ _What_ ,” Haizaki growled, his glare blunt around the edges.

That one corner of Nijimura’s lips quirked just a little bit higher. “You’ve grown up,” he said, moving his hand from the top of Haizaki’s head to the back of his neck as he followed Kise. Haizaki felt heat surge from his chest up to his neck, his legs automatically moving as Nijimura lightly pushed him forward. Nijimura’s hand slid from Haizaki’s nape to softly squeeze at his shoulder, and Nijimura spoke with a warm voice, just for Haizaki to hear, “I’m proud of you.”

“Even though you’re still a punk.” Nijimura let go and ran his hand playfully back up Haizaki’s hair, giving it one last ruffle before he strode ahead. Haizaki stumbled as if walking was confusing without Nijimura to guide him, and he stopped, watching Nijimura as he walked away. His heart thumped with renewed force, and he felt his chest swell with heat, his eyes anchored to Nijimura’s back; that same broad, strong back he used to follow without much reservation.

Haizaki let go of a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, feeling that weight in his chest melt into something like fire in his veins, sparking life into his limbs. Before Nijimura could get any further, Haizaki spurred into motion, and started walking forward.

 

#

 

Aomine had spent _years_ in America, more or less living the dream. He was drafted into a good team and made regular in practically no time, and Aomine quickly fell in love with how _big_ everything was. The pay was damn good, the food servings were fucking _huge_ , and Kagami was there to do all the difficult English-speaking (and pound Aomine into learning the language, but that’s beside the point). He was more or less famous, getting offers here and there, but the most important part was that he was playing basketball, and with damn fine opponents at that. It all suited Aomine, and everything was more or less perfect, give or take a few things, but Aomine would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss Japan.

It seemed that the longer he actually _stayed_ in Japan, the more he realized he missed it. Everything was more or less the same—not much had changed since he was last in his home country—but the moment his eyes landed on bright, amber ones, and a loud, unmistakable voice yelled, “ _Aominecchi!_ ” (followed by the heavy, warm hug) _,_ Aomine felt that he was home.

Aomine thought that maybe it was the people: the familiar faces he grew up with and left behind when he whisked himself away to America, headstrong free spirit and all. He wouldn’t deny the natural grin that tugged at his lips when he saw Midorima again, nor the jolt of nostalgia at his heart jumping at Tetsu’s not-so-sudden sudden appearance. Aomine couldn’t help the glowing elation that warmed his chest and lit up his smile at seeing them again, nor the joy from doing a fist bump with Tetsu, and the cozy contentment of being surrounded by his oldest friends. It was like settling in front of a fireplace during the winter, wrapped up in a thick quilt while cupping a mug of hot chocolate between chilled hands. It was comfortable, nostalgic; familiar. But somehow, when Kise stumbled in and pulled off his disguise, looking all windblown and lightly dusted pink with the cold, everything seemed complete. It was as if Kise was the fire in the fireplace—the _glow_ and the warmth, the golden light painted into an otherwise cold scene. It was home.

“Sorry I’m late!” Kise said, half breathless, folding his scarf and beanie away from his face. He tugged off the facemask and thick-rimmed glasses and shook his head, those fair locks falling delicately back into almost infuriating perfection. He blinked around the private room and _beamed_. “Kurokocchi! Midorimacchi! Long time no see!” Kise almost squealed, his sparkles practically radiating off of him.

Kuroko’s lips curved up in a small smile. “It’s been a while, Kise-kun.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” Midorima huffed.

Kise’s smile only widened, and Aomine couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his lips. After Kise finished stuffing his celebrity disguise into a small pack and chuckling excitedly at the others—as if _he_ were the one who’d just returned from overseas—their eyes met, and Kise’s wide smile turned shy, his cheeks flushing just a little darker. A corner of Aomine’s lips quirked up, his own cheeks feeling a tad warmer, and when Kise bit his bottom lip against a coy grin, Aomine’s chest warmed about as much as his cheeks did. For a moment, Aomine thought of freeing Kise’s bottom lip from that bite, of smoothing his thumb over the moist, pink skin, and how soft those lips feel—

Aomine’s stomach fluttered, his heart doing a small jump at his own thoughts when he realized exactly what he’d been thinking. Kise settled beside Kuroko, immediately gushing about not having seen him for so long, and Aomine kicked his earlier thoughts to the back of his mind, vaguely hoping that he wouldn’t find them again later on.

“In any case,” Tetsu was saying. “It’s nice that you were able to come despite your busy schedule.”

Kise smiled. “I was lucky today! Gemini was in first place, after all.”

To one side, Midorima clicked his tongue. Kise giggled.

“You check that Aloha-sa thing now?” Aomine raised a brow.

“It’s _Oha-Asa_ ,” Midorima frowned, half-disgusted.

“Sometimes. It’s become a habit,” Kise shrugged with a tiny snicker. “Enough about me though, what were you all talking about just before I got here?”

“We were talking about the upcoming Slam Dunk competition!” Momoi answered cheerily. “Kagamin’s participating!”

“ _Ohh!_ ” Kise’s eyebrows shot up as he turned to look at Kagami. “That’s amazing, Kagamicchi!”

Kagami’s lips twitched upward in a smirk, a shy blush faintly tinting his cheeks. “It’s not that big of a deal, but thanks.”

“No big deal my ass,” Aomine spat. “This guy’s gonna give Hanamichi a run for his money.”

“He means the current Slam Dunk champ, and one of the favorites to win,” Momoi supplied matter-of-factly. “I agree with Dai-chan though. Our Kagamin’s definitely going to make it a tough competition.”

Tetsu smiled, looking brighter. “Good luck, Kagami-kun. I’ll be rooting for you.”

Kagami’s face lit up even more, and he looked just about ready to take on any battle he’s thrown into. “Thanks,” he grinned. “I’ll make sure to win.”

“Damn right,” Aomine nodded, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. Kise chuckled lightly at him, and Aomine felt his shoulders relax. It looked like Kise was fine, despite getting way too drunk the previous night and still having to go through a full day’s worth of work (Aomine had knocked out on Kise’s couch about thirty minutes after Kise had left—unless it was basketball, Aomine couldn’t imagine having to get off his ass for anything after a night like that). It also looked like Kise was willing to overlook what the two of them got up to that last night, or was _acting_ like it wasn’t a big deal or anything serious—they’d gotten drunk, after all—or Kise didn’t remember a thing, which was worse in more ways than one.

Whatever the case, Aomine had to…they _both_ have to straighten things out. He may have been drunk, but Aomine he—he _knew_ what he was doing. Kise was drunk off his ass and was definitely operating on the alcohol more than anything, and Aomine had responded to Kise’s inebriated actions with near-complete awareness. He had moved on impulse, as he usually did, but more than that, Aomine _wanted_ it. When Kise had pulled him down, when Aomine had a taste of wine-sweet lips and felt like he was breathing in the sun, Aomine’s first instinct was _desire_. He wanted more. More than the alcohol, it was _Kise_ that intoxicated him. Aomine had gotten drunk on Kise with just that one soft brush of lips, and the only thing that Aomine could blame the alcohol on was the fact that he couldn’t stop himself from going on.

Aomine _wanted_ to blame the alcohol—it made everything simpler, and not anything like the fucking pit of confusion and denial that Aomine had fallen into. He wanted to blame the alcohol and Kise, but Kise had been drunk; Kise had become a celebrity and Aomine had no idea how much he’d changed since they last saw each other. For all Aomine knew, Kise liked to just screw around. Maybe Kise was lonely and pent up with all the work he’s been too busy with. Maybe Kise had forgotten that previous night and everything was just the cliché alcohol-driven fling. All Aomine knew was that instead of pulling away, he’d kissed back. And if that wasn’t confusing enough, a nagging guilt kept churning in his stomach. That Aomine may have—and likely—taken advantage of Kise when he was drunk and vulnerable chewed at Aomine’s conscience like a stupid parasite. The way Kise had shied away from touch before then made Aomine feel worse, and the thought of hurting Kise was a grinding clutch at his chest that made him feel like grade A scum.

When Aomine slowly got back to his senses and _really_ thought about what happened, it all started to drive him fucking nuts. His heart had made a racket in his chest and his face heated up so much he had to cover it with his hands. That morning, he had groaned through a damn headache comprised of alcohol and hormones and Kise, and fuck if it didn’t make him goddamn confused.

Apart from his own self, the source of all of Aomine’s problems was sitting almost directly across from him, looking so damn perfect for a guy who got plastered overnight and spent the next ten or so hours working a ridiculous cramped up schedule. And more infuriating was that all it took was Kise’s bright smile to make Aomine feel okay. He knew that Kise was an actor—and a damn good one at that—and as much as the guilt in Aomine’s gut was trying to make him think that Kise was just acting, more than he _knew_ , Aomine could _feel_ that Kise was fine—and more importantly, that Kise wasn’t mad at Aomine.

Maybe it was because Aomine had been gone for so long, but without really meaning to, Aomine had somehow become so keenly aware of Kise. He couldn’t seem to keep himself from watching Kise; observing him—the way his hair elegantly fell around his face, the different widths and brightness of his smiles, the small quirks and movements and mannerisms he did—somehow, Aomine noticed them all.

Across the table, Kise was happily chatting with Tetsu, and occasionally turning to everyone else to give them all attention. He was smiling, and his eyes were twinkling with unreserved joy. The way his body moved was relaxed, content—it was as if he’d settled in his home, as if he was relieved to be around his friends. Aomine remembered the Kise he saw while at work: so perfect, _too_ perfect, always this shining sun that was both dazzling and alone. As if he’d settled back to earth, sitting and eating and drinking beside friends, Kise looked at home. He was happy.

“Nope, you’re not getting any more than that,” Aomine told him, snatching away the bottle of _sake_ before Kise could sneakily get another refill.

Kise pouted (his brows furrowed, his nose did a tiny scrunch, his shoulders sagged just a fraction). “Ehh, but I can still—”

“Nope,” Aomine interjected. “You’re a damn lightweight and I’m not carrying your ass back to your place tonight.”

Kise’s face scrunched up even more, and his shoulders tightened for a moment before he relaxed with a huff. A faint hint of pink colored his cheeks, and Kise had tilted his head to look up from under his long lashes. Some of his hair tumbled over his eyes, and Aomine held back from reaching out and tucking them behind his ear.

“I’m not _that_ much of a lightweight…” Kise muttered, stuffing his mouth with some sushi. “Oh, this one’s great.”

Aomine rolled his eyes, picking up the extra sushi from his plate and dropping it on Kise’s. “You’ve got your stupid hectic schedules, have sushi instead.”

Kise lit up and immediately popped the sushi in his mouth, chewing happily. Aomine sighed, unable to keep his smile from showing. “I’m so touched, Aominecchi, you care so much,” Kise dramatically put a hand on his chest, blinking his eyes to some fake moist.

Aomine snorted. “I care about my ass not getting kicked by your sister.”

Kise raised a brow, smirking. “What about Shougo? _He’s_ the bodyguard.”

“Nah, I can take him,” Aomine said in between bites. “It’s your sister I’m worried about. Girls are fucking scary. Just look at Satsu—”

Satsuki shot Aomine a very pointed look, smiling with a face that screamed _suffering_ if anyone dared cross her.

Aomine swallowed, turning his head away. “What’d I tell you?” he said with a cough.

Kise chuckled, his cheeks flushing and shoulders shaking. Aomine’s smile came easily and naturally, as it seemed to always do whenever he’s around Kise, and everything felt okay. More than okay, it felt like home.

Kise brightly continued from there, chatting with everyone, asking all sorts of questions, telling all sorts of stories. He asked Midorima how his internship was going, and Midorima puffed and pushed his glasses back, saying everything was fine, he was excellent as usual. Kise asked him about Takao, and Midorima almost choked on his drink. Kise smiled and laughed as he offered Midorima a glass of water.

At one point, Kise sprung to life upon remembering something, and he excitedly told them that he’d met their former-captain, Nijimura, earlier that day, and that he’d become a trainer for athletes and celebrities. Kagami lit up and said that he met Nijimura once, back in America, and that Tatsuya was friends with him. Kise’s excitement doubled, and he proclaimed that one day, they will all get together again, but with everyone.

It was as if Kise was this contagious ball of energy and light that made everyone more animated, and made everything more _alive_. The only moment that caught Aomine’s eye was when Tetsu had mentioned that he was made the adviser to the basketball club at the school he taught at.

“Aomine-kun, Kagami-kun,” Tetsu said. “If you have time, maybe you could come visit?”

Kagami cocked his head as he chewed on his nth meal that night. “Sure, I guess? I’m not that busy, anyway.”

Aomine shrugged. “I dunno. Why not.” He turned to Kise. “Kise, what about you?”

“Huh? Me?” Kise blinked.

“That would be very nice, actually,” Tetsu nodded. “A lot of the members love the series you’re starring in, Kise-kun.”

“They’d love it if you’d come!” Satsuki chipped in. “It could be good publicity too!”

“Ooh yeah, Kise,” Kagami nodded. “I saw the trailer and everything, and I could see that you weren’t acting when you were playing basketball. It looks like you’re still playing.”

Aomine saw Kise’s shoulders tense, just a little, and if he wasn’t watching him so closely he would have missed the way Kise forced his body and his expression into a shift. Suddenly, he seemed to have closed off, and the smile he wore was like a choice instead of a natural thing.

Kise rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, I guess?” he chuckled. “I’ll have to check, though.”

Tetsu raised a hand. “Ah, please don’t feel obliged to go,” he said. “I’m sure the kids will appreciate it, but please go only if you want to.”

Kise smiled, and Aomine could see that there was a tad more sincerity in it as Kise looked at Tetsu. “Thank you, Kurokocchi, I’ll see what I can do!” Kise seemed to shift gears again, putting on a wider smile. “And like Momocchi said, it could be good publicity!”

Tetsu sighed, Satsuki giggled, and Kise went back to smiling and laughing alongside everyone else. Despite that, Aomine couldn’t shake the feeling that Kise had changed at the mention of basketball, receding into himself and behind the celebrity face that Aomine was slowly starting to distinguish.

Aomine can’t say he was that good at being observant, so adding that to his pile of questions only served to jumble up his brain even more. After some time, he’d pushed the thoughts at the back of his mind, and those memories from the previous night started to flood in when they were finishing up their small gathering.

After they’d paid for the bill (and after Kise posed for a picture with a waitress), they all started to stand up to leave.

“It was really great seeing you all again,” Kise smiled, sincere, and just a little bitter. “I wish we can all meet again soon.”

Tetsu smiled. “I’m sure we can,” he said. “Just call.”

“Yeah. Aomine and I will be around for a while, so just call us,” Kagami agreed with a grin.

Kise beamed. “Thanks guys.”

“Don’t forget your appointments,” Midorima mentioned, poking his glasses up his nose. “Sensei’s starting to ask again.”

“Ack, right,” Kise smiled sheepishly (and there it was again, Kise seemed to close off). “I think I’ve got one scheduled. I guess I’ll be meeting you again sooner, Midorimacchi!”

Midorima huffed, turning away. “Don’t be so excited about it.”

Kise chuckled, pulling his scarf around his neck and over his mouth. He pulled on his glasses and made a Midorima impression on the way out of the room, making the others snicker as Midorima tried to hide his half-annoyed, half-amused expression.

Together, their group hoarded attention simply because of their heights, and without really thinking, Aomine had wrapped his fingers around Kise’s wrist and tugged him to one side, where Aomine, Kagami, and Midorima shielded him from view.

There was a short moment where Kise tensed, and Aomine gently let go of his wrist, brushing his fingers against fair skin before tucking his hand into his pocket. Aomine caught the way Kise buried his face deeper into his scarf, and when their shoulders bumped, neither of them moved away.

 

Once outside, they all said their ‘see you’s and went their separate ways. Kagami and Tetsu went off to some other place together, and Midorima waved as he escorted Satsuki into his car after offering to drive her home (it was on the way, he explained).

After Midorima’s car faded into the distance, it was just Aomine and Kise.

Vaguely, Aomine felt his heart drum at his chest. He took a deep breath, and the two of them sighed at the same time.

They looked at each other, then both broke into a smile, and somehow, the tension between them eased. Kise started walking along the sidewalk, and Aomine followed beside him.

“Man, it’s been a while since I’ve hung out with friends like that,” Kise sighed wistfully, looking up at the night sky.

“You don’t go out with other people or something?” Aomine gave him a sidelong glance, shifting his hand buried in his pocket to keep from brushing Kise’s hair back.

“I do, sometimes,” Kise answered. “With Kisumi and Toorucchi—fellow models and actors—but we don’t get a lot of time to hang out. And I like them a lot but we haven’t known each other that long? Or that much? Not like us high school and middle school friends.”

“I think I get it,” Aomine said, comfortable in the gentle brush of their shoulders. “I missed it, too.”

Kise hummed in agreement, and the two of them walked in silence for a while, just breathing in the cool air, with the backdrop of the dark sky and city lights illuminating their surroundings, the vague whirr of life slowly dying down as the night grew later. Aomine’s breaths seemed to match Kise’s, and neither of them moved away from each other even as their sides lightly bumped.

“Hey,” they both said.

Again, the two of them looked at each other, and they both smiled, shifting uneasily as the air around them brought back memories of that last night.

Aomine cleared his throat. “About…last night…”

Kise tensed, moving his shoulder just a fraction away from Aomine’s. “Um,” Kise started. “Right. I forgot to thank you for…bringing me up to my place.” Kise coughed, and the tips of his ears turned red.

Aomine definitely felt his heart start to thump rapidly in his chest. Without warning, images of Kise’s flushed cheeks and moist, red lips flashed in his head, and the back of his neck where Kise had touched him seemed to tingle with heat. “Ah, it’s fine. I, er, sorry for getting you drunk.”

“No, that’s my fault,” Kise shook his head, and his blush seemed to travel down his neck. “I went and became a burden again.”

“You weren’t,” Aomine said immediately, and he felt like kicking himself for how quickly he blurt that out. “It’s fine. I should have paid more attention.”

Kise opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He just turned a deeper shade of red and flustered. “Thank you,” he said with a small voice.

Aomine felt his own cheeks heat up, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. They walked in silence for a few moments before Aomine sucked it up and cleared his throat again, taking a breath to speak just as Kise ducked his head deeper into his scarf and said, “Um, Aominecchi?”

Aomine swallowed again. “Yeah?”

“Last night, did we…” Kise bit his lip, his shoulder’s tensing again. “Did we um…you know…”

Aomine blinked at him, eyebrows climbing. “You…don’t remember last night?”

Kise turned even redder, jolting in a short panic. “I do! I just—not all of it?” he worried his lower lip again, and Aomine had to fight the urge to get him to stop that. “I remember bits and pieces but they’re so…fragmented? I was. Very drunk. I…sorry.”

Aomine bit down on his bottom lip like Kise did. “Oh. Um. Well. We, uh—” Aomine cleared his throat again, steeling himself. “Fuck this is so awkward.”

“S-sorry!” Kise half-wailed, putting a hand over his eyes. “It’s my fault, I just—”

“We didn’t do it.”

Kise stopped, turning to Aomine with wide eyes. “Huh?”

Aomine felt the heat crawl down from his cheeks. “We—” Aomine groaned. He felt his neck start to heat up to match his face, and he scratched the back of his head in mild frustration and embarrassment. “Okay. We fucking—you kissed me, I kissed back, things kind of went on after that—we kind of got…into it…but—” Aomine was sure he was fully red in the face now. “We didn’t do it.”

Kise was also damn red, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted, and at some point the two of them had stopped walking and were just staring at each other. “You mean we didn’t…”

“We didn’t have sex, no,” Aomine let out, feeling like he’d just dumped a huge weight off of his chest right there at his feet. He smacked a hand over his face, feeling just how hot it was, and groaned. He wasn’t usually so reserved about things like kissing and fucking, but with Kise everything just seemed that much more complicated and goddamn confusing. Everything threw him off, and Aomine was barely able to follow.

Kise stood frozen, his face a deep crimson, blinking as if he was very slowly processing the information and was struggling to decide how to react. Aomine wanted so bad to brush away the strands of Kise’s hair that had fallen over his eyes, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t risk doing something that would make Kise recoil or hate him. Instead, Aomine clenched his fists, unsure.

“I—” Kise started, slowly moving to bury his mouth back into his scarf. “I um. Thank you.”

Aomine blinked, and all at once every one of his doubts and worries crashed down and dissipated. His shoulders relaxed, and suddenly he could breathe again.

Kise seemed to relax too, heaving out a sigh as if he’d expelled all of the tension in his body. For a few beats, neither of them said anything, but everything felt calmer as they settled into almost unexpected, but entirely welcome relief. Kise’s hair fell over his eyes, framing his face in blonde, and before Aomine realized, he’d reached forward and tucked a stray clump behind Kise’s ear.

Kise blinked, but instead of flinching away, he looked straight at Aomine, and there was a moment—and neither of them knew exactly how long it was—where they gazed right at each other’s eyes, searching (for what, exactly, they weren’t entirely sure). And Aomine didn’t pull his hand away, instead just lightly resting his hand over the side of Kise’s face, barely brushing against his faintly flushed skin. Looking at Kise then, it was so different from that previous night—where Kise’s eyes were dark, glazed over with alcohol, and his expression a mix of pain and desire—and Aomine found better comfort in this Kise: eyes bright and full, like warm honey or liquid gold, his expression open and honest, looking directly at Aomine just like he’d done before.

And Aomine remembered that night, the way Kise had pulled him down, the way Aomine had frozen stiff and felt something inside him crack and crash like a breaking dam. He had kissed back, had run his hands through Kise’s soft golden locks, his jaw, his sides. He had littered his neck with kisses and sucked on the skin until they left a mark—and he _wanted_ to leave a mark, wanted to somehow taste and breathe in as much of Kise as he could. Kise had kissed back, soft moans and gasps escaping those lips until Aomine had muffled them with a kiss. Aomine felt like he was burning, his heart surging in his chest and his mind only filled with _more_ , _closer, again—Kise, Kise, Kise._

Aomine had thrown all notions of boundaries and friendship the moment Kise had parted his lips for him, letting him in, tracing the muscles on his neck and back and sending more fire through Aomine’s veins. Half-drunk and falling into Kise, Aomine couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t feel that anything was wrong, not if the taste of Kise—the _feeling_ of Kise—felt so good; felt like _life_.

_-_

_Amidst the heated kisses and touches and moans, Aomine felt the slender hands around his shoulders tremble. Kise was panting hard, shaking, and tears clung to the edges of his eyes. His heart was pounding, and Kise had tensed, shuddering breaths as he screwed his eyes shut, looking like he was battling something that left him paralyzed and wracked with fear and conflict; something that he tried to fight, leaving him vulnerable, and hating the fact that he was vulnerable._

_And Aomine stopped. The tightening in his chest overpowered his desire. He looked down at Kise, who tried so hard to keep from breaking apart where he lay, and couldn’t help but kiss him. Aomine pressed his lips against Kise’s, softly, tenderly, without the heated fervor from earlier. Kise whimpered, a single tear sliding down his eye, and kissed back. Aomine pressed closer, just a little, and felt something surge inside him, something that made him want to go further, to take Kise, but also stopped him from doing just that. He pulled back, hovering right above Kise, their noses almost touching, and gazed at him. He brought his hand to cup one of Kise’s cheeks, and smoothed his thumb over the corner of his eye, wiping away the tear that threatened to run down his face. Aomine gently brushed Kise’s hair from his forehead, threading his fingers in his hair once, twice—again and again, until Kise’s trembling had lessened._

_“Kise,” he breathed. “Kise.”_

_Slowly, Kise opened his eyes, and that tightening in Aomine’s chest came back stronger, making him swallow. Kise’s eyes shone with tears unshed, and Aomine felt the heat inside him melt into liquid fire, settling down into something that felt like it was_ glowing _in his chest. His heart thumped hard, and his breath caught in his throat. There was nothing about what was happening that Aomine could process and make sense of at that time, and he was definitely not using his brain as much as he should there, but there was one thing he was sure of: that he didn’t want to hurt Kise. It was the one certain thing on his mind, and Aomine didn’t want to betray it._

_“Ao…minecchi…?”_

_Aomine swallowed, willing his heart to slow and his mind to settle. “Yeah,” he said, softly. “I’m right here.”_

_A fresh sheen of tears threatened to fall from Kise’s eyes, but he closed them, breathing deep. Aomine continued to stroke his hair, pressing their foreheads together, both of them trying to breathe—slowly, deeply, breaths mingling with each other and chests rising and falling together. Without thinking, Aomine wiped away every tear that managed to escape Kise’s eyes, and pulled the blanket over Kise’s shoulders. Kise hiccupped once, turning to his side and burrowing into the sheets, and Aomine didn’t leave him alone. All he could think of doing was staying there, next to Kise, as he continued to thread his fingers through Kise’s hair, rubbing circles over the blanket covering his shoulder, and breathed beside him. Eventually, Kise had stopped shaking, and Aomine didn’t know how long he’d been lying there, just running his hand through Kise’s hair, until Kise shifted, burying his head into Aomine’s chest. For a moment, Aomine froze, his heart picking up its pace again, but when Kise relaxed, breathing deep and even against him, Aomine calmed. He continued to stroke his hair, pressed just a little closer, and fell asleep to the sound of breathing._

-

Aomine pulled his hand back, stuffing it in his pocket, and neither of them broke eye contact. Kise let out a breath, and slowly smiled. A faint flush of red tinted his cheeks, and he broke out into a dazzling grin that would have made Aomine stagger if he weren’t standing still. “I really appreciate it, Aominecchi. It…means a lot. To me. I’m sorry for being a horrible drunk and not remembering.”

Aomine let out a sigh of his own, feeling his shoulders relax. “Eh, no biggie. At least now I know how bad a drinker you are.”

Kise pouted. “I’m not _that_ bad!”

“Well you’re not that good either,” Aomine smirked, and again, they both started walking. “You’re lucky I was there to carry your ass back to your place.”

Kise smiled into his scarf. “Yeah,” he said, just barely above a whisper. “I’m really lucky it was you.”

Aomine swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, just vaguely spotting Kise’s driver stepping out of a car parked up front. “So…” he coughed. “We’re good?”

Kise looked at him, blinking once, twice, and smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re good.”

Aomine felt more relieved at hearing that than he expected, and couldn’t help the small smile that spread up his lips. They continued to walk until they reached Kise’s car, and were greeted by a cheery Tanaka-san.

“Good evening!” he said.

“Good evening,” Kise smiled. He turned to Aomine, “Want a ride home?”

Aomine shook his head. “Nah, I want to walk some more.”

“Oh, you sure?” Kise raised a brow. “Don’t stress out that ankle too much.”

Aomine rolled his eyes, but remained smiling. “Yeah yeah, Kagami’s place isn’t that far from here anyway. Besides, you probably have another stupid schedule tomorrow, so just get home and sleep already.”

“Alright, alright,” Kise chuckled. “I’ll see you around then…?”

“Yeah,” Aomine shrugged. “I’ll be around.”

Kise tilted his head to one side, smiling softly. Aomine reached forward and brushed away the stray strands of hair that fell over his lashes. Instead of flinching away, Kise leaned into the touch, just slightly, and Aomine felt his breath catch.

“Have a good night, Kise,” he said, pulling his hand back into his pocket.

Kise’s smile spread wider, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You too, Aominecchi. Thank you.”

Aomine just nodded, one corner of his lips quirking up in a crooked smile. He watched Kise step into the car and waved behind the window, and Aomine raised a hand in a single wave as the car drove away.

When the sounds of the car faded off into the distance, Aomine dropped his hand and let out a sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, grumbling to himself as his chest seemed to swell with warmth. Relief washed over his whole body, and it was almost surprising how worried he was that he fucked up somehow, and how so goddamn _relieved_ he was when Kise had smiled and thanked him. All his impulse-driven, go-with-the-flow, shoot-first-ask-later tendencies be damned—of all people, it was his friendship with Kise that he didn’t want to fuck up the most. It was Kise who had stumbled into his life just with a simple, stupid hit in the head with a basketball, and it was Kise who didn’t stop sticking with him, believing in him. When he had nothing, felt nothing, it was Kise who seemed to barge in like a fire that brought that spark back in Aomine. Kise, he—he understood Aomine the most, maybe even more—maybe all along it was the other way around. Before the basketball club, Kise was already known to have excelled in all the other sports he tried, and he quickly beat any of the best he encountered. He always looked bored, exactly like Aomine turned out to be after a few years. He had known the emptiness of boredom, of not having a challenge or a fire to spur him into life, way before Aomine did, and more times than Aomine experienced.

That Aomine only started to think about all of that right then—after more than a fucking _decade_ of knowing Kise—frustrated him to no end. He roughly ran his hand down his face with a growl, feeling like the world’s densest, most inconsiderate _prick_ , and mentally cursed himself for being so _stupid_. Kise had found that fire in Aomine, had nagged him day after day to play against him, had always been the one to give Aomine something to look forward to, and yet Aomine almost fucks up by being a self-centered little shit. He already fucked up once with Tetsu, and it was just a damn _miracle_ he didn’t manage to completely wreck his friendship with Kise—or rather, that Kise managed to put up with him through everything.

If anything, Aomine found consolation in the fact that he was just barely able to keep himself from screwing things up that night. Be it subconsciously or not, he _was_ at least a little more careful with Kise. It was just a little hard to reorganize his thoughts when he had _that_ kind of night hanging around in his mind, effectively confusing the fuck out of him at every turn. The way Kise had clung to him, the way he looked up at him, pulled him down, _kissed_ him—

_(“It’s because I love Aominecchi.”)_

Heat flared through Aomine’s cheeks, and he covered his mouth with a hand, brows furrowed deep as he trudged on at a damn slow pace, and for all his walking—it’s been a few blocks now—Aomine couldn’t for the life of him stop _thinking_ about Kise. Those one-on-ones until the sun set, the way sparks seemed to fizzle in the air when they played, his weight and warmth when he’d hugged him, the shine in his eyes, the glow of his smile, the music of his laughter; the way _‘Aominecchi’_ sounded in his voice as he beamed or laughed, or pouted or wailed, or gasped and moaned against his lips, almost like a prayer. Aomine could still _feel_ the warmth of Kise’s skin, the thrumming of his pulse against his chest, and the way their mouths fit together almost as naturally as they breathed. His hand almost shook at the electric current coursing through his fingers at the memory of Kise’s skin, the wet of his tears, the soft locks of his hair that he’d stroked for as long as it took for Kise to calm down and fall asleep in his arms, as if he belonged there—as if Aomine wouldn't have it any other way.

“God _damn,_ ” Aomine swore under his breath, and the air was chilly that night but he felt like a fire was pouring heat through his limbs and face. Since turning away from Kise, not a step went by when Aomine didn’t think about him, and he cursed at himself as his mind descended into a disorienting pit of confusion and chaos, and at the fact that of all his messed up thoughts, the one that he couldn’t quash the most—and alarmed him the most—was how much he wanted to kiss those lips again.

 

[tbc]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up: the cameo


End file.
